2J-IL 


OF  CALIF.  LIBRARY,  LOS  ANGELES 


The  Old  Cevenol 


By 


/^U  «y  RABAUT  SAINT-ETIENNE 


Translated  from  the  French 
By 

ALFRED  E.  SEDDON 


CINCINNATI,  O. 

THE  STANDARD  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 
1911 


Copyright,  1911 
The  Standard 'Publishing  Company 


PREFACE 


I  am  glad  that  the  editor  of  the  CHRISTIAN  STANDARD 
proposes  to  publish  such  literature  as  will  acquaint  Chris- 
tians in  America  with  the  noble  struggles  of  French  Chris- 
tians against  the  Papacy.  There  are  two  periods  especially 
that  will  form  instructive  and  timely  reading.  The  period 
of  the  Albigensian  persecution,  and  the  period  during  the 
validity  of  the  Edict  of  Nantes,  and  for  a  hundred  years 
subsequent  to  its  revocation. 

The  story  of  "The  Old  Cevenol"  is  one  of  the  most 
popular  works  in  the  Sunday-school  libraries  of  the  Prot- 
estant churches  of  France.  It  was  written  by  Rabaut  Saint- 
Etienne,  a  famous  and  eloquent  Protestant  preacher,  and 
the  son  of  a  preacher — Paul  Rabaut — whose  faithful  min- 
istry to  "The  Church  of  the  Desert,"  as  a  colleague  of  that 
apostolic  man,  Antoine  Court,  marks  him  as  one  of  the 
most  valiant  of  the  heroic  defenders  of  the  faith  in  those 
tragic  days.  The  first  edition  of  the  book  was  published 
about  ten  years  before  the  great  French  Revolution,  and 
consequently  during  a  period  when  the  infamous  perse- 
cuting laws  stained  the  statute-book  of  France.  "The  Old 
Cevenol"  is  a  story.  Ambroise  Borely  is  a  fictitious  hero, 
but  the  story  is  a  faithful  description  of  the  experiences 
endured  by  Christians  in  France  under  the  "Revocation." 
I  believe  the  book  has  been  translated  into  English.  I  have 

not  seen  the  English  edition.     I  have  found  both  pleasure 

5 


21327G9 


6  PREFACE 

and  profit  in  translating  it  myself,  and  this  independent 
translation  will  avoid  all  possible  interference  with  any 
rights  that  may  exist  of  the  English  translator.  The  edition 
from  which  I  translate  is  edited  by  Pastor  Charles  Dardier, 
published  by  the  Societe  des  livres  religieux  at  Toulouse, 
and  is  dated  1893.  The  editor  closes  his  preface  with  the 
following  words,  which  are  almost  as  appropriate  in  Amer- 
ica as  in  France: 

In  publishing  the  present  volume,  we  have  had  special  regard 
to  the  young  Protestants  of  our  own  day.  They  are  the  hope  of 
our  churches,  and  we  trust  they  will  find  in  this  work  not  only 
interest,  but  also  profit.  The  circumstances  in  the  midst  of  which 
they  are  growing  up  are  not,  thank  God,  as  tragic  as  formerly; 
but  they  are  always  solemn,  sometimes  difficult.  It  is  not  well  that 
they  should  forget,  or  be  ignorant  of,  the  spiritual  legacy  that  our 
fathers  have  bequeathed  to  us,  at  the  price  of  their  blood 

ALFRED  E.  SEDDON. 
ECOLE  BIBLIQUE,  Vanves  (Seine),  France,  1910. 


THE  OLD  CEVENOL 

BY  RABAUT  SAINT-£TIENNE. 


[Translated  from  the  French  by  Alfred  E.  Seddon.] 

CHAPTER    I. 

The  London  papers  have  made  known  to  the  world  the 
death  of  Sieur  Ambroise  Borely,  who  was  born  in  the 
Cevennes,  the  loth  March,  1671,  and  died  at  London  the 
I4th  September,  1774,  at  the  great  age  of  103  years,  7 
months  and  4  days.  The  most  ordinary  name  becomes  so 
celebrated,  when  he  who  bears  it  reaches  such  an  advanced 
age,  as  to  be  the  envy  of  mortals;  but  there  were  special 
circumstances  in  the  life  of  Borely  which  add  to  this 
natural  interest ;  circumstances  which  moved  his  friend — • 
Mr.  William  Chesterman,  good  citizen  of  Spring  Garden — 
to  gather  together  anecdotes  of  his  life.  This  book  having 
fallen  into  our  hands,  we  read  it,  we  were  interested,  and 
we  translated  it  into  French,  using  that  honest  liberty  that 
every  translator  ought  to  have,  to  dress  up  the  foreigner 
in  the  fashion  of  his  own  country.  We  shall  faithfully  re- 
produce this  interesting  and  singular  history. 

Ambroise  Borely  was  born  in  the  Cevennes.  His  father 
was  a  good,  honest  citizen  of  that  country.  He  was  the 
eldest  of  seven  children.  His  father  was  moderately  well- 
to-do  and  lived  in  simple  fashion,  looking  after  his  farm, 
going  hunting  occasionally  on  foot  followed  by  a  single 


s  THE   OLD    CEVENOL 

dog,  dining  once  or  twice  a  week  with  his  friends,  regularly 
attending  preaching  on  Sundays,  quietly  enjoying  the  pres- 
ent without  anxiety  as  to  the  future.  At  that  time  Louis 
XIV.  was  astonishing  all  Europe  with  his  magnificence  and 
his  glory.  Nothing  seemed  to  hinder  his  good  fortune  or 
to  successfully  resist  his  arms.  His  generals  and  his  min- 
isters were  all  that  he  could  wish.  The  brilliant  entertain- 
ments given  at  his  court  were  like  the  enchantments  of 
fairyland.  One  might  almost  say  the  mountains  became 
plains  before  him,  for  everywhere  his  will  was  anticipated 
and  executed  with  a  promptitude  that  was  perfectly  mar- 
velous. 

As  is  well  known,  those  who  were  around  him  took  ad- 
vantage of  his  impetuosity  to  obtain  his  authority  for  the 
revocation  of  the  Edict  of  Nantes.  He  was  the  kind  of 
monarch  to  obtain  such  a  concession  from.  He  loved  to 
attain  his  end  and  had  no  scruples  about  the  means  em 
ployed,  and  he  insisted  that  his  commands  should  be  in- 
stantly obeyed.  A  patriotic  Englishman  has  no  occasion 
to  complain  of  a  measure  that  has  proved  so  advantageous 
to  his  country,  and,  as  a  good  citizen,  I  can  not  but  hope 
that  in  France  they  may  continue  to  imagine  that  this  revo- 
cation is  an  admirable  stroke  of  policy. 

The  day  having  been  fixed  on  which  everybody  should 
be  requested  to  become  converted,  troops  were  immediately 
sent  forth  to  back  up  that  request.  All  France  knew  what 
prodigies  had  been  wrought  by  the  soldiers,  and  when,  in 
the  little  town  where  Hyacinthe  Borely,  father  of  Ambroise, 
lived,  they  learned  that  two  battalions  of  missionaries  had 
arrived,  there  was  a  general  alarm.  The  commanding 
officer  did  his  duty  in  fine  style.  He  summoned  the  in- 
habitants to  meet  on  the  public  square,  and  he  there  in- 
formed them  that  he  had  come  to  convert  them,  and  that 
he  proposed  to  do  so  with  the  aid  of  the  honest  men  who 


THE   OLD    CEVENOL  9 

had  come  with  him.  He  trusted  they  would  not  oppose  the 
wishes  of  the  king,  but,  if  they  were  obstinate  and  refused 
to  return  to  the  bosom  of  the  church,  they  would  be  per- 
suaded to  do  so  by  sundry  pains  and  calamities.  Many  of 
his  hearers  found  this  short  sermon  so  eloquent  that  they 
did  not  hesitate  for  one  moment  to  do  all  that  the  com- 
mander advised,  but  a  great  number  of  obstinate  persons 
closed  their  eyes  to  the  dazzling  light  that  beamed  from 
the  arguments  of  this  missionary  and  refused  to  be  con- 
verted. It  was  then  that  a  free  rein  was  given  to  the 
soldiers  to  proceed  in  their  work  of  conversion,  who,  for 
the  great  good  of  the  heretics,  tortured  them  with  all  the 
fury  with  which  the  demons  torture  the  damned. 

You  would  hardly  believe  what  Ambroise  used  to  tell 
about  the  deeds  of  which  he  had  been  witness  and  which 
were  reported  on  all  sides.  The  soldiers  were  permitted 
to  do  just  what  they  pleased,  provided,  it  was  said,  that 
they  did  not  kill  the  people.  But  they  sometimes  found  it 
difficult  to  place  such  restraint  on  their  zeal  as,  after  con- 
ducting their  victims  to  the  very  threshold  of  the  tomb,  to 
prevent  them  stepping  over  it.  They  heaped  violence  on 
violence.  They  poured  boiling  water  in  the  mouths  of 
some;  they  stripped  others  naked  and  stretched  them  in 
front  of  a  fire  and  turned  them  as  on  a  spit;  they  made 
others  hold  red-hot  coals  in  their  closed  hands.  In  each 
house  was  found  a  different  kind  of  torture,  according  to 
the  inventive  genius  of  those  who  undertook  the  work  of 
conversion.  Here  they  plunged  people  dow'n  a  well,  there 
they  stuck  pins  down  the  finger-nails  of  the  heretics,  or 
they  sprinkled  gunpowder  in  the  ears  of  people  and  fired 
it.  They  put  the  naked  legs  of  some  in  boots  filled  with 
grease,  and  then  stood  them  before  a  fierce  fire  until  they 
fell  fainting.  They  rubbed  salt  and  vinegar  into  the 
wounds  they  had  made;  they  dropped  hot  melted  tallow 


10  THE   OLD    CEVENOL 

into  eyes,  and,  in  a  word,  whatever  torture  human  barbarity 
has  inventeu  during  centuries  was  practiced  here. 

All  the  laws  of  modesty  and  of  nature  were  violated  by 
the  unbridled  soldiery,  who,  in  other  campaigns,  had  been 
taught,  and  even  commanded,  to  commit  acts  of  most 
striking  injustice.  From  nursing  mothers  they  took  their 
infants,  leaving  them  to  be  distressed  by  the  accumulation 
of  milk  in  their  breasts.  Sometimes  they  would  tie  the 
mother  to  a  bedpost  and  place  the  infant  a  little  distance 
off,  so  that  the  distress  of  the  infant  might  increase  the 
distress  of  the  mother.  The  towns  resounded  with  the 
frantic  cries  of  victims  in  agony,  the  profanity  of  the 
soldiers  and  the  cries  and  moans  of  the  Huguenots.  The 
remotest  deserts  no  longer  served  for  an  asylum ;  they  were 
chased  like  wild  beasts,  bringing  back  the  fugitives  to  ex- 
pose' them  to  a  thousand  tortures. 

The  most  outrageous  pillage  accompanied  these  barbar- 
ities. Furniture,  utensils,  provisions  were  thrown  out  into 
the  street.  The  soldiers  stabled  their  horses  in  the  parlors, 
and  made  litters  for  them  with  articles  of  silk  and  cotton. 
or  on  sheets  of  Holland  cloth.  The  soldiers  amused  them- 
selves by  feeding  their  horses  with  the  provisions  from  the 
family  larder,  whilst  they  left  the  families  to  suffer  the 
horrors  of  famine.  Such  scenes,  being  enacted  at  the  same 
time  in  all  the  houses  in  the  town,  would  lead  one  to  believe 
that  France  had  been  delivered  over  to  a  band  of  cannibals. 
After  the  art  of  conversion  had  been  brought  to  perfection 
by  a  year  of  practice,  it  came  to  form  a  part  of  the  regular 
military  discipline.  The  officer  gave  his  orders  for  the 
tortures,  and  the  soldier  who  betrayed  any  weakness  was 
punished.  Under  such  a  condition  of  things  all  Hearts 
seemed  to  become  insensible  to  pity,  and  the  minds  of  men 
were  possessed  with  madness.  Thus  it  came  to  pass  that 
France,  in  what  has  been  called  her  best  days,  presented 


THE   OLD   CEVENOL  11 

to  mankind  an  exhibition  more  outrageous  than  the  scenes 
of  ''The  Spanish  Fury"  in  America.  Even  the  day  of  St. 
Bartholomew  was  less  horrible  and  less  dishonorable,  for 
that  was  just  one  day,  and  the  court  which  gave  the  orders 
countermanded  them  two  days  later;  but  the  delirium  of 
the  Revocation  lasted  for  several  years,  and  if  it  is  true, 
as  we  are  assured,  that  the  laws  which  authorized  it  have 
still  their  apologists  in  France,  it  is  evident  that  this  mad- 
ness has  prevailed  for  a  century. 

Scenes  like  these  being  enacted  in  the  town  where  Hya- 
cinthe  Borely  lived,  you  will  well  understand  that  he  was 
not  spared.  When  his  provisions  had  been  consumed,  his 
wife,  although  about  again  to  become  a  mother,  was  driven 
out  of  her  home,  followed  by  her  weeping  children.  She 
took  refuge  in  the  home  of  one  of  her  sisters,  which,  at 
that  moment,  was  not  occupied  by  the  dragoons.  Hyacinthe 
Borely,  going  to  get  the  keys  of  his  abandoned  home,  was 
arrested  by  the*  soldiers,  tied  up  to  the  chimney  and  treated 
so  cruelly  that  he  expired  before  the  day  was  out.  Am- 
broise  was  tied  to  the  foot  of  the  bed,  where,  helplessly, 
he  wept  as  he  beheld  the  agony  of  his  dying  father.  After 
awhile  the  work  of  conversion  had  sufficiently  advanced  in 
the  town.  Everybody  was  either  Roman  Catholic,  or  dead, 
or  fled  to  the  woods,  or  shut  up  in  dungeons.  So  the 
troops  went  on  their  way  to  another  town,  just  as  if  nothing 
had  happened.  They  would  report  to  King  Louis  XIV. 
that  everybody  had  been  converted,  and  the  king  believed 
it  to  be  a  fact.  It  is  a  matter  of  historic  record  that,  at  that 
period,  the  king  would,  at  his  levee,  report  to  the  assembled 
courtiers  the  rapidity  with  which  the  work  of  conversion 
went  forward,  and  congratulate  himself  on  the  extreme 
ease  with  which  the  work  was  accomplished. 


CHAPTER    II. 

Hardly  had  the  troops  retired  from  the  town,  than  the 
Protestants  returned  to  their  former  religious  beliefs. 
Many  of  them  had  fled  in  order  to  escape  the  penalties  they 
had  been  condemned  to.  Some  of  these  were  arrested  at 
the  frontier  and  condemned  to  death  or  to  lifelong  impris- 
onment. Others,  known  to  have  returned  to  their  heresies, 
were  transported.  Thus,  within  the  space  of  two  months, 
this  little  town  (prior  to  this  time  very  populous)  was  re- 
duced to  about  a  third  of  its  former  population. 

The  mother  of  Ambroise,  who  had  kept  in  hiding,  came 
back  with  her  children  to  her  home.  She  tried  to  save 
something  from  the  ruin  of  her  fortune.  She  made  ar- 
rangements with  new  renters,  for  the  old  ones  had  been 
ruined.  She  bought  a  few  articles  of  furniture;  no  very 
difficult  matter,  for  so  many  people  had  fled  from  their 
homes,  and,  keeping  herself  quietly  hidden  in  her  own 
home,  succeeded  for  some  time  in  escaping  the  vigilance  of 
the  priests.  It  was  in  these  moments  of  tranquility  that  she 
commenced  to  realize  most  bitterly  the  depth  of  her  own 
sorrow,  for  until  then  it  had  seemed  to  be  drowned  in  the 
general  consternation.  She  found  herself  alone,  robbed 
of  a  tender,  virtuous  and  much-beloved  husband  and  pro- 
tector, with  the  responsibility  of  a  large  family  of  young 
children,  and  separated  from  many  of  her  relatives  and 
most  intimate  friends  who  had  fled  to  foreign  lands.  She 
was,  moreover,  deprived  of  the  necessary  means  to  provide 
for  the  wants  of  her  family.  Great  troubles  make  great 

souls.    The  souls  that  are  not  crushed  by  afflictions  rise  bv 
12 


THE   OLD   CEVENOL  13 

them,  and  nothing  contributes  more  to  sustain  our  strength 
than  to  feel  that  we  are  strong.  The  widow  of  Hyacinthe 
Borely  realized  that  her  only  resource  was  her  own  courage. 
She  faced  her  misfortunes  boldly.  She  found  in  the  very 
cares  that  her  family  required  the  energy  for  new  efforts. 

There  was,  however,  one  kind  of  evil  against  which  she 
had  no  defense.  Her  children  were  the  only  consolation 
left  to  her,  and  she  trembled  lest  they  should  be  taken 
away  from  her.  Those  were  times  when  natural  law  was 
ignored,  and  led  to  the  violation  of  all  law.  People  seemed 
to  think  that  everything  was  lawful  to  compel  people  to 
enter  heaven  according  to  the  ideas  of  the  Church  of  Rome. 
As  a  consequence,  the  greatest  injustice  was  practiced,  on 
the  plea  that  it  was  the  greatest  love.  What  seems  to  us 
most  cruel  was  held  by  the  church  to  be  most  humane  and 
just.  To  snatch  a  child  from  its  parents  was  an  act  of  be- 
nevolence. These  principles  had  been  affirmed  by  solemn 
laws,  which  France  appears  to  honor  and  cherish,  since  she 
still  retains  them  on  her  statute-book. 

These  fears  that  oppressed  the  heart  of  Ambroise's 
mother  urged  her  to  seek  the  means  of  escaping  them.  She 
believed  that  she  could  not  do  better  than,  by  her  in- 
structions, to  arm  them  against  the  evils  that  threatened 
them.  Ambroise,  the  eldest,  profited  especially  by  her 
teaching,  and  she  had  the  joy  of  perceiving  in  him,  with  the 
features  of  his  father,  of  whom  he  reminded  her,  the  sa  ne 
character  and  indications  of  the  same  virtues. 


CHAPTER   III. 

Ambroise  was  now  nearly  fifteen,  yet  he  knew  no  trade. 
He  could  read  and  write  very  well,  thanks  to  the  care  of 
his  mother  and  the  attention  that  his  uncle  had  given  to 
his  education.  He  had  been  taught  to  fear  God  and  to  do 
good  to  his  fellow-men.  He  was  honest,  outspoken  and 
generous.  He  had  an  attractive  appearance  and  his  face 
gave  indication  of  the  goodness  of  his  heart.  With  such 
talents  and  habits  as  he  gave  evidence  of,  there  seemed  to 
be  no  career  in  life  that  he  might  not  aspire  to.  It  was 
time  now  that  he  should  think  about  his  future,  and  indeed 
the  matter  occupied  his  thoughts  very  seriously.  But  he 
found  the  choice  of  a  profession  a  difficult  problem.  How- 
ever, as  his  grandfather  had  been  a  great  lawyer,  and  as 
this  profession  was  one  very  highly  respected,  especially  in 
small  towns,  he  first  of  all  decided  to  follow  that  profession. 
So  he  called  on  a  lawyer  whom  he  knew  in  order  to  tell 
him  of  his  intentions  and  to  consult  him  about  the  matter. 
He  thought  perhaps  that  his  friend  might  be  willing  to  take 
him  into  his  office,  where  he  might  learn  the  first  principles 
of  the  profession.  The  lawyer  was  exceedingly  kind  to  Am- 
broise, but  told  him  that  the  profession  of  the  law  was  for- 
bidden to  Protestants,  and  consequently  by  studying  the  law 
he  would  only  be  losing  valuable  time  which  he  might  more 
profitably  employ  in  some  other  profession.  The  young 
man  was  surprised  to  hear  this,  and  greatly  disappointed 
thus  to  find  his  ambitions  thwarted,  but  he  replied  that  if 
the  career  of  a  lawyer  was  not  open  to  him,  he  would  at 

least  like  to  be  a  procurator  or  notary,  and  that  he  would 
14 


THE   OLD    CEVENOL  15 

be  glad  to  serve  his  apprenticeship  in  his  friend's  office. 
The  lawyer  told  him  that  even  that  could  not  be ;  that  there 
were  several  royal  decrees  forbidding  to  Protestants  the 
professions  of  procurator  and  notary,  and,  what  is  more,  he 
would  not  even  be  allowed  to  take  Ambroise  as  a  clerk  in 
his  office,  as  there  was  another  statute  forbidding  lawyers 
to  employ  Protestant  clerks,  under  a  penalty  of  a  fine  of 
one  thousand  livres.  "My  friend,"  said  he  finally,  "give  up 
the  idea  of  entering  the  law  and  of  wearing  the  black  robe; 
the  law  does  not  permit  you  to  be  even  a  bailiff,  a  sergeant, 
a  constable,  or  so  much  as  a  bailiff's  man ;  the  sanctuary  of 
justice  must  not  in  any  way  be  contaminated  by  heresy." 
Ambroise,  who  had  a  good  deal  of  sense  for  his  years, 
thought  it  was  very  singular  that  Protestant  opinions  should 
disqualify  a  man  from  studying  the  quirks  of  the  law.  He 
was  so  tickled  at  the  absurdity  of  it  that,  for  the  moment, 
he  forgot  his  disappointment  and  went  out  of  the  office 
roaring  with  laughter.  "Well,"  said  he  to  himself,  "if  I 
can  not  be  a  lawyer,  I  will  be  a  doctor ;  for,  after  all,  it  is 
a  better  thing  to  devote  one's  life  to  healing  the  sicknesses 
of  .men  than  to  be  everlastingly  occupied  with  their  quar- 
rels and  follies." 

With  this  thought  in  his  mind,  Ambroise  went  straight 
to  the  house  of  a  doctor,  and  was  still  laughing  as  he  told 
of  his  adventure  with  the  lawyer.  He  told  the  doctor  that 
he  was  really  not  sorry  for  this  disappointment  caused  by 
the  royal  proclamations,  since  it  had  led  him  to  turn  his 
attention  to  a  profession  infinitely  more  noble  and  useful. 
The  physician  agreed  with  Ambroise  that  his  was  the 
noblest  of  all  professions.  "The  more  noble  and  lofty  char- 
acter of  our  profession,"  said  he,  "makes  it  incumbent  on 
us  to  have  great  care  to  keep  clear  of  all  miserable  heretics 
who,  by  their  erroneous  opinions,  would  contaminate  the 
pure  truthfulness  of  the  physician's  soul.  For  that  reason, 


16  THE   OLD   CEVENOL 

Pere  la  Chaise  and  Monseigneur  de  Louvois  have  ordained 
that,  in  order  to  be  a  good  doctor,  one  must  be  a  Catholic." 
Ambroise  naturally  inquired  if  Esculapius,  Hippocrates  and 
Galen  were  Catholics.  "No,"  replied  the  doctor,  "they  were 
pagans,  and  I  can  not  understand  why  God  permitted  them 
to  attain  such  skill  in  their  profession,  but  then  that  hap- 
pened in  the  age  of  miracles,  and,  since  the  age  of  miracles 
is  past,  it  is  perfectly  clear  that  only  Catholics  can  possibly 
be  competent  doctors.  Moreover,  there  is  a  royal  decree 
making  it  unlawful  to  call  in  a  Protestant  physician  to  a 
sick  person.  Yes,  my  friend,  it  is  dated  the  6th  of  August, 
1685,  and  it  furnishes  an  admirable  proof  of  the  wisdom 
of  Pere  la  Chaise,  for,  between  ourselves,  I  personally  do 
not  see  why  a  Protestant  could  not  be  a  lawyer.  In  order 
to  judge  whether  a  thing  is  good  or  bad,  it  does  not  matter 
what  a  man's  religion  is,  but  a  Protestant  physician  is 
nothing  less  than  a  social  plague.  If,  for  instance,  there 
were  any  Protestant  physicians  here,  that  would  be  the 
source  of  two  evils.  First,  I  might  perhaps  be  less  fre- 
quently called  in  to  attend  the  sick;  that  itself  would  be  a 
public  calamity,  and,  secondly,  since  the  profession  of  law- 
yer is  forbidden  to  the  Protestants,  the  number  of  physi- 
cians of  the  so-called  reformed  religion  would  increase  to 
such  an  extent  that  very  few  Catholics  would  follow  that 
fine  profession.  Now,  it  is  easy  to  see  how  disastrous  that 
would  be  to  the  public  health,  because  the  physicians  of 
the  so-called  reformed  religion  would  hardly  take  the 
trouble  to  notify  the  sick  of  their  serious  condition,  so  that 
the  priest  might  be  called  in  to  administer  the  sacraments. 
This  is  the  principal  reason  for  the  prohibition  of  Protestant 
physicians,  alleged  in  the  king's  decreee.  The  great  piety 
of  the  Reverend  Pere  la  Chaise  constrains  him,  in  his  wis- 
dom, to  secure  the  salvation  of  the  faithful.  It  is  not  that 
he  wishes  to  aggrandize  his  society;  that  has  never  been 


THE   OLD   CEVENOL  17 

the  object  of  the  Jesuits.  He  does  not  take  earthly  things 
into  consideration ;  he  turns  his  thoughts  toward  heaven, 
and  he  fain  would  constrain  you  to  enter  there  in  spite  of 
yourselves.  As  for  myself,  I  approve  of  this  proclamation 
of  the  king  with  all  my  heart;  before  it  was  published  I  was 
starving.  There  were  three  old  quacks  who  were  doing  all 
the  business ;  they  have  fled  to  Holland  or  to  England,  and 
now  I  am  left  alone ;  the  sick  must  apply  to  me." 

Ambroise  was  surprised  to  find  that  laws  which  can  only 
be  good  in  so  far  as  they  contribute  to  the  general  well- 
being,  are  judged  by  individuals  to  be  good  just  in  so  far  as 
they  favor  personal  interest.  He  also  was  surprised  to  find 
that  it  was  necessary  to  be  a  Catholic  in  order  to  be  per- 
mitted to  heal  the  sick.  "If  I  were  sick,"  said  he,  "I  should 
not  ask  what  is  the  religion  of  my  doctor.  I  should  simply 
ask  if  he  is  skillful.  Pere  la  Chaise  seems  to  have  reason 
for  thinking  otherwise." 

Whilst  reflecting  thus,  Ambroise  left  the  doctor,  and,  as 
his  head  was  filled  with  the  many  fine  things  that  had  been 
said  about  the  medical  profession,  he  took  a  notion  to  go 
into  a  drugstore.  "Here,"  said  he,  "I  shall  not  find  the 
same  difficulties ;  apothecaries  are  not  consulted  by  sick 
people,  and,  consequently,  they  would  not  be  in  a  position 
to  hinder  them  from  receiving  the  sacrament.  The  sale  of 
drugs  and  the  distribution  of  remedies  have  not  any  influ- 
ence whatever  on  matters  of  faith  and  salvation,  and  the 
Jesuits,  who  are  so  concerned  about  the  everlasting  happi- 
ness of  souls,  can  hardly  find  a  pretext  for  depriving  us  of 
this  modest  profession.  It  is  true,  it  is  not  quite  so  honor- 
able. I  would  certainly  rather  give  orders  than  execute 
them ;  write  prescriptions  than  mix  them  up ;  but  since  my 
religion  excludes  me  from  the  honors,  I  must  submit  myself 
to  destiny." 

He  had  scarcely  finished  these  reflections  when  he  found 


18  THE   OLD   CEVENOL 

himself  in  front  of  an  apothecary's  shop.  His  decision  was 
taken.  He  entered  the  store  and  presented  himself  to  the 
apothecary  in  a  most  courteous  manner.  The  man  of  drugs 
asked  him  what  he  wanted.  Ambroise  frankly  told  him 
what  he  had  come  for,  explaining  his  embarrassment;  how, 
not  being  permitted  to  be  either  lawyer,  or  procurator,  or 
sheriff's  officer,  or  notary,  or  assessor,  or  attorney,  or 
sergeant,  or  constable,  or  doctor,  he  had  called  to  find  out 
whether  it  would  be  possible  for  him  to  be  an  apothecary. 
He  explained  with  childlike  innocence  the  reasons  that  led 
him  to  believe  that  a  Protestant  could  sell  drugs  without 
imperiling  the  eternal  salvation  of  his  neighbors;  but  he 
soon  found  out  that  he  was  mistaken. 

"What!  another  royal  proclamation!"  cried  poor  Am- 
broise. 

"Well,  very  nearly  so,  my  friend.  There  is  an  edict  of 
the  king,  dated  the  I5th  September,  1685,  which  forbids  all 
surgeons  and  apothecaries  of  the  so-called  reformed  religion 
to  exercise  their  arts." 

"But  what  can  be  the  reason  of  this  prohibition?" 

"It  is  that,  as  apothecaries  are  sometimes  called  in  to  see 
sick  people,  probably  five  or  six  times  a  year,  and  as  they 
have  some  acquaintance  with  theology,  they  might,  by  their 
arguments,  keep  Protestants  from  embracing  the  Catholic 
religion.  Thus  it  is  prudent,  having  regard  to  the  salvation 
of  the  sick,  that  none  but  Catholics  should  be  permitted  to 
approach  them." 

Ambroise,  who  had  already  anticipated  this  reply,  said: 
"If  that  is  so,  and  those  that  surround  the  sick  person 
must  be  Catholics,  his  servants  should  be  Catholics  also." 

"Doubtless,"  replied  the  apothecary.  "In  fact,  there 
exists  a  royal  decree  that  forbids  the  adherents  of  the  so- 
called  reformed  religion  employing  any  other  than  Catholics 
as  domestic  servants.  The  infraction  of  this  law  involves  a 


THE   OLD   CEVENOL  19 

penalty  of  a  fine  of  one  thousand  livres  for  the  employer, 
and  the  punishment  for  the  servant  is  more  severe.  If  a 
man,  he  is  sent  to  the  galleys;  if  a  woman,  she  is  whipped 
and  branded'  with  a  fleur  de  lys.  You  can  readily  see  how 
necessary  this  is.  (The  Catholic  servant  is  a  spy  in  the 
Protestant  household,  and  can  reveal  everything  that  goes 
on  in  the  family  to  the  priest  at  the  confessional,  and  the 
Jesuits  will  not  fail  to  report  everything  of  importance  to 
Pere  la  Chaise." 

"Pere  la  Chaise  again,"  said  Ambrose.  "And  it  is  he 
who  draws  up  air  these  royal  proclamations?" 

"Yes,  my  friend;  that  shows  his  zeal  for  the  salvation 
of  souls.  It  is  on  that  account  that  he  takes  so  many  pre- 
cautions to  stamp  out  heresy.  It  is  for  this  reason  that  all 
Protestant  midwives  are  forbidden  to  exercise  their  profes- 
sion by  royal  declaration.  It  is  true  that,  in  some  localities, 
there  are  none  but  Protestant  midwives,  and  several  women, 
in  giving  birth  to  a  child,  have  died  for  lack  of  help,  but 
then  that  is  only  temporal  death;  it  is  not  eternal  death,  and 
the  state  looks  on  temporal  death  as  a  very  small  matter. 
As  you  see,  there  are  still  people  left  behind  in  the  country, 
in  spite  of  the  great  numbers  that  have  been  killed  and  who 
have  fled  the  country.  It  was  formerly  believed  that  the 
strength  of  an  empire  consisted  in  its  population,  but  that 
fallacy  is  now  exploded.  The  Jesuits  have  proved  that  a 
state  can  not  fail  to  be  prosperous  if  the  king's  confessor  is 
a  Jesuit,  and  if  the  state  is  respectfully  submissive  to  the  will 
of  Rome." 

"I  see,"  said  Ambroise.  "So  the  kingdom  of  England 
must  necessarily  perish,  and  the  English  can  never  gain  the 
victory  over  us." 

"They  have  beaten  us,  it  is  true,  latterly,"  said  the  apoth- 
ecary, "but  that  was  to  punish  us  for  our  sins,  and  to  present 
us  from  falling  into  that  sinful  pride  which  they  exhibit 


20  THE   OLD    CEVENOL 

after  their  victories.  His  Holiness,  the  pope,  tells  us  that, 
if  they  triumph  on  the  earth,  we  shall  triumph  in  heaven." 

Ambroise  had  met  with  so  many  rebuffs  during  the  day 
that  he  began  to  feel  extremely  exhausted.  He  was  so 
oppressed  by  the  difficulties  that  surrounded  him,  and  so 
preoccupied  with  his  own  gloomy  thoughts,  that  he  hardly 
listened  to  the  apothecary's  further  remarks,  and  walked 
out  of  the  store  with  less  politeness  than  he  had  entered. 
He  went  home  greatly  perplexed  as  to  what  he  could  do. 
"Well,  never  mind,"  said  he  to  himself,  "I  must  not  be  dis- 
couraged. Maybe  there  are  still  two  or  three  professions 
left.  Who  knows  but  what  there  may  be  still  some  means 
left  to  live  in  the  world  without  being  either  a  physician, 
or  surgeon,  or  accoucheur,  or  apothecary,  or  lawyer,  or 
procurator,  or  notary,  or  sheriff's  officer,  or  sergeant,  or 
bailiff's  man,  or  purveyor  to  the  king,  or  director,  or  comp- 
troller, or  clerk,  or  constable,  or  servant,  or  steward  of  ec- 
clesiastical property,  etc.,  etc.,  etc. 

Poor  Ambroise  and  his  coreligionists  were  in  a  bad  case. 
It  is  true  that  to  admit  a  Protestant  to  the  right  to  marry, 
or  to  enter  into  any  of  the  prohibited  callings,  all  that  was 
necessary  was  to  comply  with  some  Catholic  rite,  which 
compliance  might  be  attested  by  witnesses  who  were  often 
most  unscrupulous,  and  a  certificate  of  orthodoxy  could  be 
purchased  at  very  small  cost.  But  the  sad  consequence  of 
such  a  condition  of  things  was  that  all  the  places,  the  honors, 
the  rights  of  citizenship,  all  places  of  public  confidence  and 
responsibility,  were  available  to  the  Protestant  who  violated 
his  conscience,  or  for  those  who  considered  all  religious 
observance  as  unmeaning  ceremony,  whilst  the  man  of 
tender  conscience,  or  of  soul  too  lofty  to  stoop  to  even  the 
shadow  of  a  falsehood,  was  the  man  who  had  to  bear  the 
penalty  of  his  integrity.  His  nobility  of  soul  was  the  cause 
of  his  being  dealt  with  as  a  criminal. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

Our  young  Cevenol  slept  very  little  that  night.  He  lay 
awake  trying  to  solve  the  difficult  question  of  the  choice  of 
a  profession.  Amongst  the  few  careers  which  remained 
open  to  him  he  seemed  most  disposed  to  the  military  profes- 
sion. As  soon  as  his  mother  began  to  stir,  he  went  into  her 
room  and  told  her  of  all  his  disappointments  of  the  previous 
day,  and  the  embarrassment  in  which  he  found  himself  as  to 
the  choice  of  a  profession.  He  asked  her  what  she  thought 
about  the  army,  and  whether  he  might  not,  with  wisdom  and 
courage,  in  the  profession  of  arms,  succeed  in  obtaining  pro- 
motion. At  any  rate,  the  army  was  not  closed  against  Prot- 
estants. 

"I  hope,  my  son,"  said  his  mother,  "that  in  the  choice 
of  a  profession  you  will  do  nothing  without  consulting  me. 
I  want  to  leave  you  perfectly  free  to  make  your  own  choice, 
but  you  have  need  of  my  experience.  It  is  advice,  not  com- 
mands, that  I  would  give  you.  Whilst  it  is  perfectly  true 
that  the  military  profession  is  not  directly  forbidden  to  Prot- 
estants, yet  the  king  has  made  it  known  that  he  proposes  to 
reserve  his  favors  for  Catholics  alone.  Now,  as  the  favors 
of  a  prince  ought  never  to  be  other  than  acts  of  justice  and 
rewards  for  service,  it  is  as  though  he  had  declared  that  he 
does  not  intend  to  reward  the  services  of  his  Protestant 
subjects.  You  see,  therefore,  that,  in  the  army,  you  could 
never  expect  any  promotion,  and,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  the 
Protestant  officers  who  are  now  in  the  army  are  all  languish- 
ing in  subordinate  positions.  The  way  they  have  been 

treated  has  resulted  in  disgusting  them  with  the  service 

21 


22  THE   OLD   CEVENOL 

altogether,  and  this,  added  to  the  persecution  of  their  people, 
has  led  many  of  them  to  flee  into  foreign  countries  which 
now  can  boast  several  regiments  composed  exclusively  of 
valiant  Frenchmen." 

[The  translator  of  this  story,  not  willing  to  trouble  his 
readers  with  footnotes,  will,  from  time  to  time,  embody  in 
the  text  occasional  valuable  items  not  found  in  the  original 
text.  At  this  point,  for  instance,  the  French  editor  of  the 
work  has  made  the  following  remark:  "How  many  brave 
soldiers,  highly  educated  engineers,  good  officers,  great 
captains,  have  passed  over  to  the  enemy  and  carried  with 
them  their  tribute  of  valor  and  skill !  Such,  for  instance, 
as  the  Schombergs,  the  Galloways,  the  Chanclos,  the 
Deshayes,  the  Dumoulins,  the  Ligoniers,  and  many  others. 
How  many  people,  born  for  other  callings,  have  been  forced 
to  abandon  them,  and,  in  despair,  have  turned  against  their 
country.  To  be  just,  we  can  not  altogether  blame  them  for 
the  evils  they  have  done.  Does  not  the  blame  belong  rather 
to  those  who  robbed  them  of  their  goods  and  their  honors 
and  tortured  their  bodies?"] 

The  good  mother,  resuming  her  advice  to  her  son,  said : 
"You  must  also  take  into  account,  my  dear  boy,  the  in- 
evitable unpleasantnesses  with  your  comrades  and  the  dis- 
putes in  which  you  would  surely  be  involved  on  the  score 
of  your  religion.  The  folly  of  the  Government  in  perse- 
cuting the  Protestants  has  again  aroused  the  social  animosi- 
ties that  had  almost  died  out.  The  question  of  personal 
interest  would  occasionally  come  in  to  embitter  the  situation. 
You  would  find  comrades  mean  enough  to  take  advantage  of 
your  religion  to  secure  their  own  advancement  at  your  ex- 
pense. And,  again,  remember,  my  son,  if  you  enter  the 
service,  you  must  make  up  your  mind  some  day  to  be  the 
perpetrator  of  the  atrocities  that  have  brought  desolation 
to  your  own  unfortunate  family.  You  have  seen  the  king's 


THE   OLD   CEVENOL  2S 

soldiers  inundate  this  province.  The  day  will  come  when 
you  may  be  put  in  garrison  in  these  desolated  cantons,  a 
barbarous  superior  officer  will  take  a  pleasure  in  command- 
ing you  to  execute  cruel  orders  against  your  own  brothers ; 
you  could  not  execute  them  without  groaning.  You,  a 
brave  man,  would  be  sent  against  unarmed  people;  you 
would  have  to  do  duty  as  constable  and  executioner.  You 
would  see  your  fellow-soldiers  (who  ought  to  have  no  other 
task  than  to  repel  the  enemies  of  their  country)  rage  in  their 
fury  against  old  men,  women  and  children.  You  would  be 
forced  to  be  a  witness  of  these  barbarities,  and,  as  you  turn 
away  with  a  sigh,  you  would  say :  'It  is  thus  that  I  formerly 
saw  my  own  family  tormented ;  it  was  to  such  evils  as  these 
that  my  own  venerable  father  succumbed.'  " 

Ambroise  could  no  longer  endure  the  awful  vision  that 
his  mother's  words  conjured  up  before  his  imagination.  He 
cried  out  and  begged  his  mother  to  say  no  more,  and  pro- 
tested vehemently  that  at  once  and  forever  he  renounced  all 
thought  of  military  service;  "but  tell  me  what  to  do,"  said 
he.  "You  see  my  embarrassment.  Several  times  I  have 
entertained  the  thought  of  leaving  my  ungrateful  country, 
but  the  thought  of  leaving  you  here  alone  in  this  proscribed 
land  has  always  turned  me  from  that  purpose;  my  troubles 
seem  lighter  when  I  share  them  with  you;  voices  not  un- 
worthy bid  me  go,  but  others  even  more  noble  bid  me  stay." 

The  mother  replied:  "If  you  possess  that  courage  that 
is  so  necessary  to  persons  that  are  in  an  unfortunate  posi- 
tion, you  would  feel  that  every  profession  is  honorable  to 
the  man  that  pursues  it  honorably." 

"I  know,"  said  Ambroise,  "that  I  shall  have  to  lower  my 
ambitions,  and  it  will  cost  me  something  to  do  it;  but,  if  I 
keep  my  religion  and  my  conscience,  I  shall  have  gained 
everything.  Unfortunates  such  as  we  can  not  afford  to 
indulge  in  dreams  of  ambition ;  let  me  but  live  to  to  be  your 


24  THE   OLD   CEVENOL 

consolation,  for  that  from  now  shall  be  my  highest  ambi- 
tion." 

"That  is  the  reply  I  expected  of  you,  my  dear  boy.  Yes, 
you  will  have  to  take  to  some  trade,  and  in  your  choice  you 
must  consult  your  circumstances  and  your  conscience.  You 

know  M.  de  S ;  he  is  a  friend  to  us ;  ask  his  advice,  and, 

whatever  happens,  never  lose  sight  of  your  duty  to  God,  to 
your  religion  and  to  the  most  loving  of  mothers." 

Ambroise  went  out  to  consult  his  friend,  who  very  much 
astonished  him  by  informing  him  that  there  was  hardly  any 
respectable  profession  that  was  not  forbidden  to  Protes- 
tants. They  could  not  be  either  printers  or  booksellers  or 
goldsmiths,  and  as  for  the  manual  trades,  they  also  were 
forbidden,  although  in  an  indirect  manner.  He  would  find 
it  difficult  to  find  an  artisan  who  would  be  willing  to  take  a 
Protestant  as  an  apprentice,  for  the  ordinances  were  very 
severe  on  that  point.  Protestant  artisans  were  forbidden  to 
take  apprentices  of  their  own  sect,  and  it  was  presumed 
that  young  Protestants  would  not  be  willing  to  enter  into 
the  service  of  a  Catholic  master. 

"Explain  to  me,  I  beg  you,"  said  Ambroise,  "the  reason 
of  all  these  unjust  laws.  I  can  not  believe  that  the  king 
knows  of  all  these  iniquities,  and  that,  of  his  own  free  will, 
he  issues  proclamations  restraining  the  liberties  of  his  sub- 
jects, reducing  them  to  beggary  and  compelling  them  to 
leave  the  country." 

"I  will  tell  you,"  replied  his  friend.  "As  a  matter  of 
fact,  the  king  does  not  know  half  the  cruelties  that  are  com- 
mitted in  his  name,  and  maybe  he  closes  his  eyes  to  the 
injustice  of  the  other  half.  It  is  unfortunate  for  him  that 
he  knows  so  little  of  the  true  interests  of  his  people,  and 
that  he  does  not  realize  that,  in  permitting  these  useless  out- 
rages, he  is  in  fact  casting  dishonor  on  one  of  the  most 
glorious  reigns  known  to  history,  and  that  he  is  causing  the 


THE   OLD    CEVENOL  25 

wealth  and  glory  of  his  country  to  pass  over  to  the  enemy. 
But  what  is  most  deplorable  of  all  is  that,  whilst  the  whole 
of  Europe  clearly  sees  that  the  Jesuits  are  the  authors  of 
all  these  vexations,  our  king  is  so  blind  that  he  can  not 
perceive  it." 

Ambroise  joined  with  his  friend  in  deploring  the  weak- 
ness of  kings  and  the  misfortunes  of  the  people.  "Must  I, 
then,"  he  asked,  "be  deprived  of  a  trade  and  die  of  starva- 
tion, in  order  that  the  Jesuits  may  gain  control  of  all  the 
known  world?" 

"All  resources  are  not  closed  against  you,"  said  his 
friend;  "the  way  of  commerce  is  still  open  to  you.  Mon- 
seigneur  de  Louvois  has  evidently  overlooked  that,  and  I 
can  foresee  that  the  Protestants — unfortunate  and  ruined 
as  they  are  to-day — will  one  day  cause  the  towns  and  the 
provinces  where  they  settle  to  flourish  and  prosper.  Com- 
merce is  honest  and  useful.  It  may  be  that  you  will  be  able 
some  day  in  business  to  make  good  the  losses  which  a  hard 
persecution  has  inflicted  upon  you." 

Acting  on  the  advice  of  his  friend,  Ambroise  engaged 
himself  with  a  business  man,  to  whom  he  greatly  endeared 
himself  by  his  conduct  and  his  agreeable  manners. 

The  prophecy  of  Ambroise's  friend  has  been  fulfilled. 
Protestants  saved  the  business  of  France.  The  principal 
merchants  of  Bordeaux,  Lyons  and  Marseilles,  the  most 
famous  bankers  of  Paris,  are  Protestants.  Protestants  are 
carrying  on  the  finest  silk  manufactories  of  Languedoc. 
These  useful  and  oppressed  subjects  applied  themselves  to 
industry  all  over  the  kingdom,  whilst  their  brothers  who 
took  refuge  in  England  contributed  to  carry  to  perfection 
their  art  in  the  land  of  their  exile,  so  that  the  foreign  pro- 
ductions soon  became  the  object  of  our  emulation  and  envy. 


CHAPTER   V. 

We  have  seen  how  devotedly  attached  to  her  religion 
was  the  mother  of  young  Ambroise.  This  devoted  attach- 
ment to  religious  opinions  has  been  called  fanaticism.  And, 
as  a  matter  of  fact,  can  anything  be  more  absurd  than  not 
to  change  one's  opinion  when  invited  to  do  so  by  a  brigade 
of  cavalry  or  by  a  troop  of  dragoons?  It  is  the  easiest 
thing  in  the  world  to  adopt  a  sentiment  utterly  opposed  to 
one  entertained  for  forty  or  fifty  years,  and  it  is  as  clear 
as  day  that,  although  nature,  governments  and  education 
may  have  contributed  to  make  us  see  things  in  a  different 
light,  a  prince  has  only  to  lift  his  finger  in  order  that  a 
hundred  million  subjects,  if  he  have  so  many,  should 
straightway  think  just  as  he  does.  According  to  Bayle, 
an  ancient  poet  has  said:  "The  gods  make  use  of  men  as 
balls  to  play,  tennis  with."  The  kings  of  England  appear 
to  do  the  same  thing  with  the  souls  of  their  subjects,  for, 
last  century,  within  the  space  of  thirty  years,  they  changed 
the  state  religion  four  times. 

The  editor  of  the  edition  from  which  this  translation 
is  made  adds  to  the  foregoing  sarcasm  a  little  sarcasm  of 
his  own,  when  he  says:  "A  writer  as  celebrated  as  Bayle 
calls  attention  to  the  same  fact,  thus :  'When  we  study 
closely  the  history  of  this  great  kingdom  (England),  and 
particularly  the  most  recent  reigns,  and  observe  how  easily 
grown  kings,  young  princes  and  queens  have  overturned 
and  established  religions,  and  when  we  consider  the  incred- 
ible facility  with  which  Henry  VIII.,  Edward  VI.,  Mary 
and  Elizabeth  overturned  the  religion  of  the  people  again 

and  again,  one  can  not  but  blame  the  people  for  being  too 
26 


THE   OLD   CEVENOL  27 

submissive,  for  thus  placing  both  their  faith  and  their  con- 
science under  the  yoke.'  It  appears  that  this  writer  did 
not  think,  as  do  others  of  his  own  church,  that  the  people 
ought  to  submit  their  consciences  to  the  will  of  a  prince. 
And  yet  observe,  dear  reader,  that  it  is  a  churchman  who 
thus  speaks,  none  other  than  the  great  Bossuet,  in  his 
funeral  oration  on  the  death  of  the  queen  of  England." 
Here  the  translator  would  like  to  add  his  remark.  Bossuet 
in  his  statement  betrays  a  very  inadequate  conception  of 
the  real  attitude  of  Englishmen  towards  the  theological 
vagaries  of  Henry  VIII.  It  is  estimated  that  seventy  thou- 
sand Englishmen  and  Englishwomen  surrendered  their 
lives  rather  than  their  consciences  during  the  reign  of 
Henry,  and  during  the  short  reign  of  his  daughter  Mary 
so  many  were  martyred  for  conscience'  sake  as  to  brand 
that  queen  with  the  title  of  "Bloody  Mary."  It  is  quite  re- 
markable how  clearly  the  Papist  can  grasp  the  principle  of 
the  divine  right  of  the  freedom  of  the  human  conscience 
when  he  fancies  it  tells  in  his  favor,  but  how  utterly  blind 
he  is  to  it  when  it  applies  to  one  not  a  member  of  the 
Church  of  Rome!  Protestants  were  being  persecuted  in 
France  at  the  very  time  that  Bossuet  was  blaming  the 
English  people  for  being  too  submissive  to  their  kings  in 
the  matter  of  religion ;  yet  there  does  not  appear  to  be  on 
record  a  single  word  of  protest  from  Bossuet  against  the 
cruel  persecutions  by  his  own  church  and  right  under  his 
nose. 

But  we  will  now  return  to  our  story.  According  to  this 
incontestible  principle — the  right  of  a  king  to  coerce  the 
consciences  of  his  subjects — it  is  very  evident  that  the 
prince  has  a  perfect  right  to  hang  everybody  who  clings  to 
opinions  and  prejudices  they  imbibed  with  their  mother's 
milk.  Obstinacy  of  opinion  is,  according  to  the  doctrine 
of  divine  right,  a  crime  punishable  with  death.  I  am  very 


28  THE   OLD   CEVENOL 

glad  to  be  able  to  state  these  unquestionable  principles,  be- 
cause by  them  alone  can  the  laws  be  justified  about  which 
I  am  going  to  speak.  Otherwise  one  might  be  misled 
by  a  weak  compassion  or  by  some  compunctions  on  the 
score  of  justice.  There  are  a  good  many  tender-hearted 
and  justice-loving  people  nowadays  who  otherwise  might  be 
misled. 

Ambroise  had  brothers  and  sisters  younger  than  him- 
self, and  the  mother,  seeing  her  success  in  educating  her 
eldest  son,  devoted  herself  with  increasing  ardor  to  the 
education  of  the  others.  This  education  was  necessarily 
limited  to  such  teaching  as  she  could  give  them  at  home, 
and  had  for  its  main  object  their  training  to  become  good 
citizens  and  to  teach  them  the  same  principles  which  she 
herself  held  to  be  so  dear.  There  was  a  certain  old  man 
who  lived  in  that  part  of  the  country — Claude  Upokrites 
by  name — who  held  a  fine  office.  His  duty  was  to  denounce 
people  who  stubbornly  held  to  their  own  opinions  and  to 
hand  them  over  to  the  executioner.  His  honest  rewards 
came  out  of  the  spoils  from  his  victims.  Full  of  holy 
avarice,  this  charitable  inquisitor  hunted  up  delinquents 
with  great  zeal,  and,  owing  to  the  auspicious  character  of 
the  country  in  which  he  operated,  there  was  no  lack  of  op- 
portunity for  him  to  display  his  great  zeal.  He  was  not 
slow  to  perceive  that  Ambroise's  mother  sent  none  of  her 
children  either  to  the  school  or  to  the  mass,  and  that,  in 
these  respects,  she  was  violating  the  king's  ordinances.  He 
caused  her  to  be  condemned  to  pay  the  fines  prescribed  in 
the  king's  declarations.  The  mother  paid  them  gladly, 
happy  thus  to  be  able  to  purchase  the  right  to  educate 
her  own  children.  But  these  fines  were  repeated  and  cruel- 
ly increased  from  time  to  time,  terribly  dissipating  her 
little  possessions.  The  superiors  of  religious  establish- 
ments, irritated  by  the  stubborn  resistance  of  this  woman, 


THE   OLD    CEVENOL  29 

had  recourse  to  the  king's  edict  which  applied  to  her  case. 
There  was  an  edict  which  declared  that  widows  who  per- 
sisted in  the  "So-called  Reformed  Religion"  a  month  after 
the  publication  of  the  decree  should  be  deprived  of  all 
power  to  dispose  in  any  way  of  their  property,  which 
should  pass  to  their  Catholic  children,  if  they  had  any 
such,  or,  if  they  had  not,  to  the  nearest  hospitals.  "That 
is  just  the  decree  for  this  case,"  exclaimed  the  triumphant 
Upokrites;  and  soon  the  edict  was  executed.  They  took 
away  from  the  mother  the  right  to  manage  her  own  prop- 
erty, granting  to  her  a  pension  barely  sufficient  to  live  upon, 
and,  conformably  with  the  other  edict  of  the  king,  all  her 
children  were  taken  from  her.  They  were  shut  up  in  con- 
vents in  distant  towns,  where  they  were  so  well  instructed 
and  catechized  and  so  regularly  flogged,  as  to  give  ground 
for  the  hope  that,  in  the  course  of  a  few  years,  they  would 
make  good  Catholics.  It  is  true  that,  on  coming  out  of 
the  convent,  they  fled  into  foreign  countries ;  but  at  least 
the  church  had  done  what  it  could  and  had  nothing  to  re- 
proach itself  for. 

The  desolate  widow  of  the  unfortunate  Hyacinthe 
Borely  ate  the  bread  of  tears  and  groaned  night  and  day  at 
the  loss  of  her  children.  She  was  reduced  to  live  in  a  mis- 
erable hovel  with  a  few  poor  articles  of  furniture.  She 
had  but  one  consolation:  that  was  to  see  Ambroise,  who 
devoted  to  her  all  the  time  he  could  spare  from  his  business. 
A  new  grief  came  to  further  crush  her  broken  heart. 
Amongst  her  children  was  a  beautiful  little  boy  whom  they 
had  named  Benjamin.  Like  the  son  of  Jacob,  he  was  the 
darling  of  his  parents.  This  child  was  only  seven  and  a 
half  years  old.  He  had  been  taken  away  with  the  others 
and  placed  in  a  convent  six  miles  away  from  where  his 
mother  dwelt.  Upokrites  conceived  the  marvelous  project 
of  inducing  this  child  to  embrace  the  Catholic  religion. 


30  THE   OLD   CEVENOL 

They  made  a  great  favorite  of  him  at  the  convent;  they 
gave  him  candies  and  pictures,  and  the  little  Benjamin,  in 
the  presence  of  a  great  crowd  of  the  faithful,  abjured  his 
errors  with  such  deep  contrition  that  it  brought  tears  to  the 
eyes  of  all  beholders,  after  which  he  was  put  in  possession 
of  his  father's  property.  The  mother,  the  brothers  and  the 
sisters  were  all  dispossessed,  in  accordance  with  the  king's 
edict.  Upokrites  was  named  guardian,  and  managed  the 
property  with  such  integrity  and  delicate  regard  to  the 
feelings  of  the  mother  as  can  be  easily  imagined.  The  good 
widow  said  with  a  sigh :  "A  child  of  seven  is  not  competent 
to  make  choice  of  a  religion.  Such  a  choice  demands  the 
exercise  of  vigorous  reasoning  faculties,  and  was  altogether 
beyond  the  power  of  poor  little  Benjamin,  who  is  still  play- 
ing with  his  toys."  But  she  was  informed  that  she  was 
mistaken,  and  that  there  was  nothing  more  reasonable  since 
the  promulgation  of  the  king's  decree  that  children  at  the 
age  of  seven  could  abjure  the  "So-called  Reformed  Re- 
ligion." "It  is  true,"  they  admitted,  "that  in  1669  the  king 
thought  that  children  should  not  be  permitted  to  abjure 
a  religion  before  the  age  of  fourteen,  but  Pere  la  Chaise 
claims  now  that  a  child  of  seven  years  has  the  intelligence 
that  in  former  days  was  acquired  by  children  of  thirteen 
or  fourteen  years.  The  Jesuits  also  claim  the  same  thing. 
Besides  this,  need  one  be  astonished  that,  in  a  country 
where  the  vow  of  chastity  is  taken  at  the  age  of  sixteen, 
a  child  at  the  age  of  seven  should  make  a  vow  of  absolute 
and  implicit  faith?"  Of  course  there  was  nothing  to  say 
against  the  declarations  of  the  king,  the  assertions  of 
Claude  Upokrites,  and  the  profound  arguments  of  Pere  la 
Chaise.  The  poor  widow  was  left  alone  with  her  tears. 
They  reduced  her  pension  and  her  misery  was  extreme,  but 
she  must  suffer  in  silence. 

In  connection  with  the  decree  that  robbed   Protestant 


THE   OLD   CEVENOL  31 

parents  of  their  young  children,  the  editor  appends  the  fol- 
lowing note : 

"The  decree  is  dated  January  12,  1686.  Was  there  ever 
anything  more  unchristian  and  more  tyrannical  than  to  rob 
parents  of  their  children?  Fatal  method,  perpetuated  up 
to  our  own  days  since  the  revocation  of  the  Edict  of 
Nantes.  All  the  provinces  have  been  thus  desolated,  but 
Poitou,  Languedoc,  Vivarais,  Dauphiny,  and  especially  the 
diocese  of  Bayeux  in  Normandy,  furnish  recent  examples 
by  the  thousand.  These  executions  were  effected  in  the 
most  terrible  manner  and  gave  rise  to  the  most  awful 
scenes.  In  order  to  intensify  the  horror  of  these  captures, 
they  were  usually  effected  in  the  night.  Without  going 
into  detail,  it  must  suffice  to  give  a  general  idea  of  these 
barbarities.  I  will  refer  to  just  one  expedition,  that  of 
Sieur  Houvet,  cure  of  Athis  in  Normandy,  and  of  his 
vicars,  Verger  and  Grenier.  Imagine  these  priests,  fol- 
lowed by  a  band  of  constables,  flying  from  parish  to  parish, 
besieging  houses  under  cover  of  darkness,  bursting  the 
doors  open  with  axes,  and  filling  the  air  with  frightful  yells 
calculated  to  fill  the  boldest  with  terror.  Imagine  their 
satellites  following  them,  sword  in  hand  and  blasphemy 
in  their  mouths,  overturning  and  breaking  everything  in 
their  way  until  they  at  length  find  the  object  of  their  search, 
which  is  destined  to  be  the  cause  of  many  bitter  tears. 
They  would  pounce  upon  their  prey  with  the  fury  of  wild 
beasts,  snatching  it  away  without  giving  time  for  dressing 
and  regardless  of  the  despairing  cries  of  father  and  mother. 
With  extreme  inhumanity  they  repel,  insult  and  strike  the 
unhappy  father  and  mother,  who,  seeing  that  which  they 
hold  as  dearest  in  the  world  snatched  away  from  them,  are 
emboldened  by  their  despair  to  make  some  vain  efforts  to 
save  these  precious  objects  of  their  tenderness  and  keep 
them  for  their  love.  These  abductions  caused  such  con- 


32  THE    OLD   CEVENOL 

sternation  and  aroused  such  alarm  in  all  the  cantons  that 
more  than  a  thousand  families  fled  over  to  England,  carry- 
ing with  them  whatever  they  could  carry  of  their  effects 
and  money." 

The  following  note  is  given  respecting  the  law  that 
transferred  the  property  of  a  Protestant  father  to  a  Cath- 
olic child : 

"By  law  dated  June  17,  1681,  Louis  XIV.  permitted  the 
abjuration  of  children  of  seven  years  of  age.  He  gave 
them  authority  to  leave  their  parents'  home  and  to  enter 
action  at  law  with  their  father,  in  order  to  oblige  him  to 
pay  the  child  a  pension.  The  law  supposed,  therefore,  that 
a  child  of  seven  years  is  competent  to  choose  between  two 
religions  which  are  subjects  of  dispute  between  the  most 
learned  theologians  of  Europe.  The  law  permitted  a  child 
of  seven  to  withdraw  himself  from  his  father's  authority. 
A  father  ran  the  risk  of  losing  his  child  forever  if,  by 
some  needful  severity  in  correcting  his  vicious  tendencies, 
he  aroused  in  the  soul  of  the  child  a  momentary  spite.  It 
is  in  such  a  way  that  the  instigators  of  these  laws  disre- 
garded the  dictates  of  natural  religion  and  the  promptings 
of  instinct." 


CHAPTER   VI. 

One  day  when  Ambroise  was  sitting  at  home  with  his 
mother,  a  friend  entered.  From  the  troubled  look  upon  his 
face  one  could  see  at  once  that  he  was  the  bearer  of  evil 
tidings.  Indeed,  he  had  come  as  bearer  of  the  sad 
intelligence  that  Ambroise's  uncle  had  been  arrested  and 
taken  to  prison,  and  that,  to  all  appearances,  he  would  be 
condemned  to  the  galleys.  This  uncle  was  an  honest  man 
who,  at  a  time  when  many  others  were  abjuring  their  Prot- 
estant faith,  had  yielded  like  the  rest.  He  had  had  four 
drummers  quartered  on  him,  who  sought  his  conversion  by 
beating  the  drums  at  all  hours  of  the  day  and  night  at  his 
bedside,  where  he  lay  sick.  For  forty-eight  hours  he  held 
out  against  this  new  species  of  torture;  then  they  tried  an 
improvement  on  their  method.  They  procured  a  big  tin 
boiler  which  they  put  over  the  sick  man's  head  and  ham- 
mered on  it  constantly.  They  would  look  at  their  patient 
from  time  to  time  to  see  the  effect  of  these  arguments,  and 
if  the  conversion  was  progressing  satisfactorily.  At  length 
they  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  that  the  drum  argument 
had  proved  efficacious.  The  uncle  of  Ambroise,  worn  out 
with  fatigue,  promised  to  sign  his  abjuration,  which  he  did 
with  a  trembling  hand  and  then  fainted  away. 

From  that  day  the  new  convert  was  no  longer  troubled, 
since  a  signature  so  willingly  given  demonstrated,  in  the 
most  satisfactory  manner,  that  he  was  a  good  Catholic;  but 
the  poor  man  himself  suffered  such  remorse  on  account  of 
what  he  called  his  "fall"  that  he  wept  tears  of  penitence 

the  rest  of  his  days.     The  gentle  Upokrites,  whose  officiaL 
3  33 


34  THE   OLD    CEVENOL 

position  authorized  him  to  poke  his  nose  into  everybody's 
business,  entertained  a  pious  grudge  against  this  man,  be- 
cause his  conduct  gave  no  occasion  for  inflicting  a  fine. 
Upokrites  had  several  complaints  against  him.  It  was  a 
common  practice  in  those  happy  days  for  the  curate  and  the 
Upokrites  of  the  parish  to  go  visiting  on  Fridays  and  Sat- 
urdays among  the  suspected  families,  to  find  out  if  they 
were  eating  meat,  and  sometimes  Ambroise's  uncle  had  been 
found  in  fault.  It  is  true  that,  as  his  health  was  delicate, 
he  had  procured  a  doctor's  certificate,  and  therefore  he 
could  not  lawfully  be  fined.  There  was  another  glorious 
custom,  worthy  of  the  splendid  times  in  which  our  Cevenol 
lived.  They  would  visit  the  homes  of  recent  converts  to  the 
Church  of  Rome  to  take  away  their  religious  books.  This 
ceremony  was  performed  with  military  pomp,  in  order  to 
show  what  soldiers  were  capable  of  doing.  The  drums 
were  beaten  all  over  the  town,  soldiers  were  picketed  at  the 
street  crossings,  and,  after  the  search,  the  books  that  had 
been  found  were  burned  in  the  public  square.  People  who 
were  found  to  have  concealed  their  books  of  devotion  were 
punished  severely,  and  good  Catholics  were  so  touched  with 
the  thought  of  these  benevolent  expeditions  that  they 
prayed  God  that  the  soldiers  might  find  a  large  number  of 
delinquents.  The  grievance  that  Upokrites  had  against 
Ambroise's  uncle  was  not  that  he  found  in  his  house  any 
religious  books,  but  that  he  did  not  find  any;  for  it  must 
be  confessed  that  the  honest  man  had  some  faults,  and  that 
he  was  somewhat  too  eager  for  plunder.  The  hope  of  con- 
fiscations and  fines  made  him  capable  of  any  meanness. 
Chance,  which  has  now  been  proved  to  govern  the  world 
with  so  much  intelligence,  this  time  favored  the  holy  greed 
of  Upokrites.  Some  one  happened  to  speak  in  his  presence 
of  the  peculiarities  of  the  uncle  of  Ambroise,  and  of  his 
quiet,  retired  life,  and  declared  that  he  was  as  much  Prot- 


THE   OLD   CEVENOL  35 

estant  as  ever,  and  that  he  had  heard  him  express  ^eep  re- 
gret for  his  abjuration.  The  gentle  Upokrites,  who  always 
had  the  laws  against  heretics  at  his  finger-ends,  asked  the 
speaker,  in  a  careless  sort  of  manner,  who  was  with  him 
when  he  heard  these  things.  The  speaker  named  two  or 
three  well-known  persons.  The  triumphant  Upokrites 
thereupon  concocted  a  scheme  which  he  straightway  began 
to  put  in  execution. 

Here  it  becomes  necessary  to  inform  the  reader  of  a 
remarkable  decree  of  the  king  that  bears  the  date  of  the 
22d  of  March,  1690.  This  law  forbids  the  new  converts, 
who  have  once  abjured  the  "So-called  Reformed  Religion," 
to  dare  to  say  that  they  are  sorry  for  having  done  it,  and 
this  same  ordinance  of  the  king  condemns  to  the  galleys 
any  one  who  shall  have  the  audacity  and  the  temerity  to 
say  that  they  are  still  Huguenots ;  and,  lest  the  slow  and 
stately  march  of  justice  should  soften  the  severity  of  the 
penalty,  by  delaying  it,  the  execution  of  it  was  entrusted 
to  the  Intendants.  Moreover,  observe,  dear  reader,  that 
this  ordinance,  for  which  we  are  doubtless  indebted  to  that 
holy  man,  Pere  la  Chaise,  calls  this  retraction  a  crime,  be- 
cause, forsooth,  it  is  a  crime  to  retract  when  one  is  free 
what  one  has  promised  when  persuaded  thereto  by  the 
swords  and  pistols  of  dragoons.  According  to  this  ordi- 
nance, Ambroise's  uncle  was  guilty.  Upokrites  had  already 
received  the  deposition  of  the  two  witnesses  who  had  over- 
heard the  remarks  of  the  unfortunate  man;  and  the  very 
next  day  Jerome  Borely  was  torn  from  the  bosom  of  his 
family  and  placed  in  a  dungeon.  Such  was  the  news  that 
was  brought  to  Ambroise  and  his  mother. 

You  will  readily  imagine  the  grief  of  this  poor  widow. 
When  a  soul  is  cast  down  by  sorrow,  it  needs  only  a  little 
more  affliction  to  overwhelm  it  entirely.  It  is  the  last 
stroke  of  the  ax  that  brings  down  the  oak  which  twenty 


36  THE   OLD   CEVENOL 

arms  have  attacked.  This  last  stroke  of  misfortune  proved 
too  great  for  Ambroise's  mother;  it  completely  prostrated 
her.  As  for  Ambroise  himself,  he  was  in  despair.  "What!" 
he  cried  with  sobs,  "my  uncle,  my  dear  uncle,  my  second 
father,  snatched  away  from  us,  shut  up  in  an  infected 
dungeon  and  loaded  with  chains!  My  dear  uncle,  the  most 
virtuous  of  men,  condemned  to  pass  the  remainder  of  his 
days  with  the  vilest  criminals,  and  disgraced  as  though  he 
were  himself  a  criminal!  And  for  what,  great  God!  For 
having  hated  hypocrisy!  What  worse  could  he  have  de- 
served if,  instead  of  being  the  best  of  men,  he  had  been  the 
worst  and  had  dishonored  his  life  with  the  most  infamous 
crimes?"  The  poor  boy  yielded  to  a  paroxysm  of  tears. 
Presently  he  began  again  to  moan :  "Oh,  my  poor  uncle, 
you  will  never  be  able  to  stand  the  fatigue  of  the  convict- 
gang,  the  violence  of  the  sea  and  the  detestable  food!  I 
fancy  I  can  see  you,  stretched  on  the  bowsprit,  your  back 
bared  and  near  you  the  barbarous  overseer,  armed  with  a 
tarred  rope.  How  can  God  allow  such  things  to  be  among 
those  made  in  his  image?" 

It  may  be  necessary  here  to  explain  the  frightful  vision 
that  was  conjured  up  before  the  imagination  of  young  Am- 
broise, and  drove  him  nearly  frantic  with  grief.  So  bitter 
was  the  zeal  of  the  persecutors  that  the  Protestant  prisoners 
were  treated  worse  than  the  actual  criminals;  the  most 
fatiguing  places  and  duties  were  allotted  to  them.  If,  at 
the  elevation  of  the  host,  when  the  mass  was  celebrated  on 
board  the  galleys,  they  did  not  bare  their  heads,  they  were 
stretched  naked  on  the  bowsprit,  and  an  overseer,  armed 
with  a  tarred  rope,  dipped  in  the  sea-water,  thrashed  them 
with  all  his  strength.  The  victims'  ribs  resounded  with  the 
violence  of  the  strokes,  and  at  each  blow  the  skin  was  torn 
in  bleeding  shreds.  They  then  carried  away  the  victim, 
half  dead,  to  the  hospital,  where  he  was  cared  for  until  he 


THE   OLD    CEVENOL  37 

was  sufficiently  healed  to  go  through  the  awful  experience 
again. 

No  wonder  the  boy  was  haunted,  wherever  he  went, 
with  the  terrible  vision  of  the  sufferings  that  his  good  uncle 
would  have  to  endure  as  a  galley-slave.  This  frightful 
vision  followed  him  wherever  he  went.  Sometimes  he  in- 
dulged the  hope  that,  by  the  intercession  of  friends,  his 
uncle  might  be  delivered  from  such  a  fatal  destiny,  and  for 
a  time  this  hope  lessened  his  grief.  At  other  times,  losing 
all  hope,  he  entertained  the  noble  purpose  of  himself  taking 
his  uncle's  place;  for  it  seemed  to  him  that  his  uncle  was 
more  necessary  than  himself  to  his  dear  mother.  Am- 
broise's  health  was  very  seriously  affected  by  these  things, 
and  doubtless  he  would  have  become  seriously  sick,  had  it 
not  been  for  the  lawyer  who  previously  had  given  him  good 
advice.  No  one  knew  better  than  this  lawyer  how  to 
smooth  down  the  holy  severity  of  certain  men,  and  how  to 
purchase  immunity  from  the  most  terrible  fate.  This  law- 
yer succeeded  in  delivering  Jerome  Borely,  but  it  was  at  the 
expense  of  his  fortune.  Upokrites  had  good  occasion  to 
be  pleased  with  the  financial  arrangements  proposed  by  the 
lawyer  for  the  relief  of  Jerome  Borely,  whose  family  forgot 
their  poverty  in  the  joy  of  the  liberty  of  its  head.  This 
joy,  however,  was  of  short  duration. 

Jerome  Borely  was  working,  on  shares,  a  farm  belong- 
ing to  a  neighboring  convent.  The  prior  would  have  con- 
sidered it  a  great  offense  if  a  Protestant  had  refused  to 
undertake  such  a  charge.  But  it  so  happened  that  a  royal 
edict,  dated  July  9,  1685,  made  it  illegal  for  a  Protestant 
to  take  such  farms,  and  that  for  doing  so  a  Protestant  was 
liable  to  a  fine  of  one  thousand  livres,  besides  heavy  law 
expenses.  Jerome  Borely  was  attacked  on  this  account. 
He  might  have  justified  himself  by  declaring  that  he  was 
not  a  Protestant  since  he  had  abjured  that  faith;  but  his 


38  THE    OLD    CEVENOL 

conscience  would  not  allow  him  to  shield  himself  in  that 
manner ;  he  would  have  blushed  at  such  an  infamy.  It  was 
these  scruples  of  conscience  that  were  the  cause  of  his  un- 
doing. His  exhausted  fortunes  made  it  impossible  for  him 
to  pay  the  fatal  fine,  so  once  more  he  was  dragged  to 
prison.  For  some  time  past  he  had  had  symptoms  of  dis- 
ease; his  strength  gave  way  under  this  new  trial,  and  he 
became  seriously  ill. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

The  good  Ambroise  was  filled  with  sorrow  at  the  sad 
condition  of  his  uncle,  and  resolved,  in  order  to  deliver  him, 
to  sell  off  a  little  property  of  which  he  had  recently  come 
into  possession.  He  said  to  himself:  "My  uncle  is  my 
father's  brother;  he  cared  for  me  during  my  childhood. 
When  I  had  the  misfortune  to  lose  my  dear  father,  my 
poor  uncle  mingled  his  tears  with  ours,  and  in  the  end  he 
dried  ours.  He  has  fed  me  with  bread  from  his  own  table. 
Now  I  have  the  power,  I  ought  to  repay  to  him  the  benefits 
I  have  received  from  him."  Reasoning  thus,  Ambroise  be- 
gan to  seek  for  a  purchaser  for  his  little  property.  His 
great  anxiety  to  sell  caused  quite  a  number  of  particular 
friends  to  come  forward  with  offers  to  purchase  the  prop- 
erty for  one-half  of  its  real  value.  Ambroise  was  himself 
so  honest  and  sincere  that  he  did  not  suspect  that  these 
pretended  friends  were  just  taking  advantage  of  the  sit- 
uation, and  he  concluded  a  bargain  with  one  of  them, 
indulging  the  hope  of  soon  seeing  his  uncle  and  of  embrac- 
ing him  a  thousand  times.  He  was  too  joyful  to  sleep  that 
night,  and  very  early  next  morning  he  knocked  at  the  door 
of  a  notary,  asking  with  impatience  to  see  the  man  of  the 
law  immediately  on  very  pressing  business.  The  notary, 
supposing  that  he  was  wanted  in  haste  to  draw  up  the  will 
of  a  dying  man,  muttered  a  thousand  maledictions  on  the 
profession  that  compelled  him  to  sleep  with  his  eyes  open, 
the  dying  man  who  sent  to  disturb  his  slumbers,  and  the 
messenger  who  came  after  him.  This  thought,  however, 

occupied  only  a  portion  of  the  intellectual  fibers  during  the 

39 


40  THE   OLD   CEVENOL 

process  of  regaining  full  use  of  his  mental  faculties.  The 
ether  part  of  his  half-awake  faculties,  long  accustomed  to 
respond  with  alacrity  when  his  financial  interests  were 
concerned,  urged  him  to  dress  with  haste,  lest  the  messenger 
might  apply  to  another  notary  in  the  neighborhood,  of 
which  he  was  jealous.  In  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  he  had 
put  on  an  old  dressing-gown,  and,  rushing  to  the  stairs, 
he  appeared  to  Ambroise,  with  one  foot  in  a  slipper,  the 
other  in  a  shoe,  and  a  large  inkhorn  in  his  hand. 
"Well,  my  friend,  what  is  it?  Is  he  very  sick?" 
"Ah,  sir,  worse  than  I  can  tell  you.  His  condition 
"breaks  my  heart.  Ah,  my  poor  uncle,  when  shall  I  see 
him  at  rest?" 

"For  a  nephew,"  said  the  notary,  "you  appear  to  be 
very  much  concerned.  Well,  tell  me,  have  you  consulted 
him?" 

"I,  sir,  consult  him?  No,  I  want  him  to  know  nothing 
about  it.  I  want  to  surprise  him." 

"But,  my  friend,  he  is  the  party  interested;  he  must 
know." 

"Ah,  yes,  of  course,  he  will  know  when  the  thing  is 
done,  when  he  will  be  no  longer  in  a  position  to  raise  any 
objection,  when  I  shall  be  in  a  position  to  compel  him  to 
consent  to  sacrifices  that  he  would  never  allow  if  I  con- 
sulted him." 

The  notary  began  to  think  that  he  was  talking  either  to 
a  rascal  or  a  madman,  and  it  was  not  without  considerable 
explanations  that  Ambroise  succeeded  in  getting  the  notary 
to  understand  his  intentions.  He  could  not  help  admiring 
the  generous  disposition  of  the  young  man,  and  promised 
to  register  the  contract  for  the  sale  as  soon  as  Ambroise 
procured  the  necessary  permission. 

"What  permission?"  asked  Ambroise;  "I  am  of  age. 
My  father  is  dead;  I  am  only  too  free." 


THE   OLD   CEVENOL  41 

"Are  you  not  a  Protestant  ?" 

"Yes,  sir,  I  am,  but  what  has  that  to  do  with  the  sac- 
rifices that  I  propose  to  make  on  my  uncle's  behalf?'' 

"It  has  this  much  to  do,  that  you  can  not  dispose  of 
your  property  without  a  permission  from  the  Intendant ; 
that  is,  for  properties  up  to  the  value  of  three  thousand 
livres:  for  properties  of  greater  value,  the  permission  of 
the  court  is  necessary.  Now,  your  property  being  worth 
from  four  to  five  thousand  livres,  you  will  have  to  apply 
to  the  sub-delegate,  who  will  write  to  the  Intendant,  who 
will  reply  to  the  sub-delegate,  who  will  communicate  the 
reply  to  you,  and  you  will  then  know  whether  you  are  at 
liberty  to  dispose  of  your  own  property.  It  is  true  that, 
before  you  receive  the  information,  your  uncle  will  be  dead, 
in  all  probability.  It  is  also  possible  that,  if  the  sub- 
delegate  is  not  very  favorably  disposed  towards  you,  his 
reply  may  not  be  satisfactory,  or  that  your  own  relatives, 
in  order  to  prevent  you  from  alienating  property  on  which 
they  have  cast  their  eyes,  may  write  some  anonymous 
letters  to  frustrate  your  purpose.  There  are  also  many 
other  things  that  might  happen,  but  these  are  the  little 
annoyances  that  a  good  citizen  will  suffer  with  patience 
because  of  the  great  good  and  honor  that  he  personally 
derives  from  the  state.  For  you  ought  to  understand,  my 
dear  Ambroise,  that  when  citizens  are  thus  annoyed  in 
their  affairs  it  is  really  good  for  them,  and  that  the 
happiness  of  an  empire  consists  in  this,  that  the  subjects 
should  become  fully  persuaded  that  the  free  possession  of 
their  property  is  nothing  more  than  a  chimera." 

The  notary  was  proceeding  to  discourse  at  great  length, 
when  he  perceived  the  tears  starting  into  the  eyes  of  Am- 
broise as  he  made  a  thousand  lamentations  for  his  un- 
fortunate uncle,  whom  he  seemed  to  mourn  as  though  he 
were  already  dead.  The  notary  did  the  best  he  could  to 


42  THE   OLD   CEVENOL 

console  the  young  man,  and  did  in  fact  succeed  in  comfort- 
ing him  to  some  degree,  for  the  heart  of  an  unfortunate  is 
always  open  to  hope.  Ambroise  decided  to  see  the  sub- 
delegate,  who  lived  twelve  miles  away.  He  went,  but 
found  that  the  sub-delegate  had  left  the  previous  day  for 
Montpellier,  and  that  he  would  not  return  before  the  end 
of  the  week.  On  learning  this,  the  young  Cevenol  was 
extremely  depressed,  but  what  use  is  it  to  struggle  against 
destiny?  One  murmurs,  but  one  submits  all  the  same. 
Everybody  who  saw  the  unhappy  Ambroise,  advised  him 
to  exercise  patience,  to  await  the  return  of  the  sub-delegate 
and  to  hope  in  Providence.  After  well  considering  the 
situation,  he  came  to  the  conclusion  that  that  was  the  best 
thing  that  he  could  do. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

As  Ambroise  awaited  the  end  of  the  longest  week  he 
had  ever  known,  he  sought  a  relief  for  his  sorrow  by 
making  frequent  visits  to  his  uncle,  the  unhappy  cause  of  it. 
His  mind  was  possessed  but  with  one  single  idea,  the  deliv- 
erance of  his  uncle.  A  famous  lawyer  lived  in  the  little 
town,  and  Ambroise  made  up  his  mind  to  consult  this 
eminent  man.  "I  will  see  for  myself,"  said  he,  "this 
declaration  of  the  king;  who  knows,  perhaps  there  may  be 
some  way  of  evading  it  and  of  saving  the  life  of  my  uncle?" 
The  lawyer  confirmed  all  that  the  notary  had  said,  and 
convinced  Ambroise  that  he  would  be  unable  to  find  a 
purchaser  for  his  property,  since  the  law  was  as  severe 
against  the  purchaser  as  against  the  vendor. 

"But,"  objected  Ambroise,  "if  this  law  takes  away 
from  me  the  right  to  sell  my  property,  it  can  not  absolve 
me  from  paying  my  debts." 

"No,"  replied  the  lawyer,  "but  you  would  have  to 
furnish  legal  proof  of  your  indebtedness." 

"Ah,  sir,  my  uncle  has  kept  no  accounts  of  my  indebted- 
ness to  him,  but  they  are  written  on  my  heart,  and,  if  he  has 
forgotten  the  benefits  with  which  he  has  overloaded  me, 
that  is  all  the  greater  reason  why  I  should  remember  them." 

"That  is  proof  of  the  goodness  of  your  heart,  but  good- 
ness of  heart  does  not  constitute  a  legal  claim  for  per- 
mission to  sell  one's  property.  In  this  respect  an  honest 
Huguenot  is  less  fortunate  than  a  rascal  who  has  the  good 
luck  to  be  a  Catholic." 

"At  least,  if  I  am  not  able  to  sell  my  property,  I  can 

43 


44  THE   OLD   CEVENOL 

give  it  away;  and,  so  far  as  I  am  concerned,  that  amounts 
to  pretty  much  the  same  thing ;  for  I  imagine  that  with  this 
little  property  it  would  be  no  very  difficult  thing  to  persuade 
M.  Upokrites  and  his  friends  to  dispense  with  the  usual 
formalities." 

"No,  my  dear  Ambroise,  the  law  stands  in  your  way 
again,  and  it  forbids  a  gift  of  real  estate  between  persons; 
thus,  you  are  able  to  buy  as  much  as  you  like,  but  you  can 
not  sell,  and  I  do  not  see  any  other  way  for  you  to  sell  your 
property  than  by  getting  the  necessary  permission." 

Ambroise  could  not  conceive  it  possible  that  there  should 
be  a  law  forbidding  him  to  be  grateful.  "What!"  said  he; 
"I  have  some  property;  I  wish  to  give  it  away  to  another 
because  I  do  not  care  to  keep  it  any  longer,  and  I  am  not 
allowed  by  law  to  do  it!  This  is  strange  indeed!" 

The  lawyer  then  explained  to  him  that  the  object  of 
this  law  was  to  prevent  the  newly  converted  from  escaping 
out  of  the  kingdom. 

"So  the  king  knows  that  we  are  in  a  miserable  con- 
dition," said  Ambroise,  "since  he  is  afraid  of  our  running 
away ;  but  would  it  not  be  a  wiser  thing  for  him  to  seek  to 
retain  by  benefits  rather  than  by  fear?  And  what  is  more, 
sir,  it  is  impossible  to  keep  people  here  by  force.  When 
once  we  become  convinced  that  our  country  is  a  hard  and 
cruel  mother  who  banishes  us  from  her  bosom,  one  quits 
her  without  a  sigh,  in  order  to  flee  to  a  kinder  one  who  will 
be  a  benefactor  instead  of  a  persecutor.  Liberty  is  price- 
less, and  though  it  cost  our  whole  fortune  to  purchase  it, 
the  price  is  not  too  great.  I  understand  nothing  about  law, 
but  it  seems  to  me  that  no  law  can  oblige  a  subject  to  re- 
main in  a  country  where  he  is  not  happy.  If  the  king 
orders  me  to  stay  in  a  country,  and  nature,  that  abhors 
suffering,  orders  me  to  leave  it,  I  may  respect  the  king, 
but  I  shall  certainly  obey  the  dictates  of  nature." 


THE   OLD   CEVENOL  45 

"You  are  right,"  agreed  the  lawyer.  "I  might  even 
observe  that  this  law,  that  forbids  Protestants  to  sell  their 
property  without  permission,  is  open  to  many  other  objec- 
tions. It  frightens  the  subject,  because  it  makes  him  feel 
that  the  state  is  but  one  vast  prison  for  him,  from  which 
he  can  not  escape,  and  in  that  way  it  destroys  the  con- 
sciousness of  liberty,  which  is  the  mainspring  of  industry. 
It  reminds  us  too  forcibly  of  our  chains,  which  the  author- 
ities would  do  well  to  conceal  with  flowers.  It  discourages 
the  acquisition  of  real  estate  and  destroys  the  confidence 
of  the  subject,  who  should  be  encouraged  to  engage  in 
industry  by  the  assurance  that  he  is  working  for  himself 
and  for  his  children.  It  disturbs  a  large  multitude  of  fam- 
ilies who  have  to  sell  a  part  of  their  possessions  in  order 
tc  save  the  rest  from  being  completely  wrecked.  I  know 
but  one  way,"  continued  the  lawyer,  "of  selling  your 
property ;  but  it  will  take  long  and  the  costs  will  be  heavy." 

"Never  mind  the  costs ;  never  mind  the  costs,"  quickly 
cried  Ambroise;  "provided  I  have  a  thousand  livres  left 
with  which  to  pay  my  uncle's  fine  and  his  expenses,  I  shall 
be  satisfied." 

He  insisted  so  strongly  that  it  was  agreed  between  them 
to  arrange  it  in  the  manner  suggested  by  the  lawyer.  An 
indebtedness  of  three  or  four  thousand  livres  on  the  part 
of  Ambroise  was  assumed,  a  writ  was  issued  against  his 
property,  at  the  cost  of  about  three  hundred  livres,  and  the 
domain  was  sold  off  cheap,  as  the  domain  of  a  bankrupt, 
so  that  when  Ambroise  had  paid  his  uncle's  fine  and  the 
law  costs,  the  procurators  and  the  lawyers,  there  was  nothing 
at  all  left  for  himself;  but  he  had  his  uncle,  and  that  was 
enough  for  him.  Poor  Jerome  Borely  was  taken  out  of 
the  prison,  but,  in  addition  to  the  maladies  from  which  he 
was  suffering  when  confined,  he  had  there  contracted  a 
rheumatism  which  tormented  him  to  the  end  of  his  days. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

Ambroise  went  on  his  way  home  with  bowed  head  and 
downcast  eyes,  and  walked  along  as  one  in  deep  thought. 
He  was  rudely  awakened  from  his  reverie  by  the  frightful 
howlings  of  a  mob.  He  went  in  the  direction  of  the  noise, 
to  see  what  might  be  the  cause  of  the  tumult.  Soon  he 
caught  sight  of  a  crowd  of  constables,  soldiers,  priests, 
magistrates,  and,  in  the  midst  of  them,  the  executioner, 
who  was  dragging  through  the  mud  a  naked  corpse  covered 
with  filth  and  wounds.  The  head  of  the  corpse  was  dis- 
figured beyond  all  recognition  by  the  blows  from  sticks  and 
stones  which  were  constantly  rained  upon  it.  Ambroise 
had  no  need  to  ask  what  it  was  all  about,  or  the  meaning 
of  the  insults  hurled  against  the  Huguenots,  and  the  oft- 
repeated  cries :  "Well  done,  well  done ;  they  should  all  be 
served  like  this ;  they  ought  all  to  be  hanged  or  burned." 
He  could  well  understand  that  it  was  one  of  his  Huguenot 
brethren  who,  upon  his  death-bed,  had  refused  to  take  the 
sacrament  from  a  Romish  priest.  Excited  by  this  spectacle, 
the  populace  threw  mud  and  stones  against  the  houses  and 
the  stores  of  the  Huguenots,  and  chased  those  who  were 
unfortunate  enough  to  be  found  by  them  on  the  streets. 
One  might  have  supposed  that  an  insurrection  had  broken 
out  in  the  town,  or  that  it  had  been  delivered  over  to  pillage 
by  a  victorious  foe.  Ambroise  started  to  escape,  but  he  was 
speedily  recognized  and  could  not  get  away  quickly  enough 
to  escape  sundry  blows.  He  lost  his  cap,  his  face  was 
covered  with  mud,  and  his  coat  was  torn  to  rags,  when 

happily  he  found  a  passage  with  a  door  which  he  slammed 
46 


THE   OLD   CEVENOL  47 

behind  him,  and  thus  escaped  from  his  pursuers.  The 
house  where  Ambroise  had  taken  refuge  faced  the  open 
square,  and  several  persons  had  come  there  to  witness  the 
edifying  spectacle.  It  was  not  without  pain  and  fear  that 
he  heard  the  bursts  of  laughter  and  the  jokes  of  the  lookers- 
on.  They  pained  him  to  his  heart.  In  order  to  avoid  hear- 
ing them,  he  went  back  down  the  passage-way  and  soon 
found  himself  in  a  very  obscure  place.  A  short  distance 
from  him  two  men  were  walking  up  and  down  the  garden, 
engaged  in  a  warm  discussion.  One  was  a  Jesuit,  robed  in 
black,  and  the  other  was  the  master  of  the  house.  They 
were  talking  about  the  tumult  going  on  in  the  street; 
Ambroise  did  not  lose  a  word,  and  this  is  what  he  heard: 

"You  must  admit,"  contended  the  master  of  the  house, 
"that  it  is  cruel  to  be  obliged  to  change  opinion  and  to 
pretend,  during  the  whole  of  one's  life,  to  believe  what  one 
does  not  indeed  believe  in  the  bottom  of  one's  heart.  I 
am  not  at  all  surprised  that,  in  the  last  moments  of  life, 
when  one  has  no  longer  anything  to  fear,  when  one  is  no 
longer  controlled  by  worldly  interests  and  by  the  pleasures 
of  a  life  of  ease,  a  dying  man  who  has  no  longer  any  reason 
to  prevaricate  should  make  confession  of  his  real  faith. 
For  the  life  of  me,  I  can  not  blame  him.  In  our  religion, 
I  would  rather  have  but  a  small  number  of  true  believers 
and  be  sure  of  them  than  to  gain  two  or  three  million  hypo- 
crites !" 

"Good,"  replied  the  Jesuit,  "but  what  does  it  matter 
what  these  people  believe  in  the  bottom  of  their  hearts,  pro- 
vided only  that  the  king  is  persuaded  of  their  conversion 
and  that  they  go  to  mass?  You  are  right  enough  in  sup- 
posing that  they  are  unwilling  converts,  and  no  doubt  the 
king  himself  has  his  suspicions  of  the  shams,  for  it  is  un- 
doubtedly true  that  the  large  majority  of  them  are  con- 
verted only  by  force  or  for  worldly  reasons;  but  anyway, 


48  THE   OLD   CEVENOL 

they  are  in  the  fold  of  the  church;  we  have  done  our  duty; 
now  it  is  God's  business  to  convince  them." 

"That  is  to  say,  reverend  father,  that  all  this  violence, 
massacres  and  punishments  have  resulted  in  manufacturing 
a  great  number  of  hypocrites.  That  is  a  dear  way  of 
buying  bad  subjects,  and  I  frankly  avow  to  you  that  I 
prefer  a  good  Protestant  to  a  bad  Catholic." 

"If  the  fathers  are  hypocrites,  sir,  the  children  will  be 
true  believers." 

"I  very  much  doubt  that,  reverend  father,  for  men  are 
never  so  much  attached  to  their  opinions  as  when  they  find 
an  attempt  made  to  force  them  to  abandon  them.  We 
naturally  suspect  that  those  who  would  force  us  to  adopt 
their  belief  have  no  better  arguments  to  support  their 
creed.  The  very  violence  that  they  use  to  force  their  creed 
upon  us  becomes  a  proof  of  the  superiority  of  our  own 
belief.  People  become,  therefore,  the  more  attached  to 
their  religion  by  the  very  means  adopted  to  force  them  to 
abandon  it.  And  do  you  not  suppose  that,  in  the  secrecy 
of  the  home,  the  parents  will  teach  to  their  children  the 
religion  they  themselves  have  never,  in  their  hearts,  for- 
saken? Take,  for  instance,  this  unfortunate  fellow  whose 
corpse  is  to-day  dragged  through  the  mud ;  he  knew  the 
fate  that  awaited  him ;  he  knew  the  shameful  character 
of  the  proceedings,  and  yet  the  force  of  conviction 
prompted  him  to  brave  it  all." 

"Ah,  well!"  replied  the  black-robed  Jesuit,  "this  ex- 
ample will  be  a  warning  to  others,  and,  even  though  we 
may  not  be  successful,  we  are  sure  that  exploits  like  these 
from  time  to  time  will  keep  alive  among  the  people  a 
social  hatred  that  will  produce  the  happiest  results.  For 
instance,  it  is  now  more  than  a  month  that  popular  feeling 
had  begun  to  subside,  tranquility  had  become  re-established 
and  a  spirit  of  toleration  was  becoming  manifest;  so  we 


THE   OLD    CEVENOL  49 

begin  by  giving  a  new  warning — we  dig  up  from  the  grave 
the  corpse  of  some  unfortunate  and  expose  it  to  the  insults 
of  the  populace,  or  we  hang  a  minister,  or  we  send  a 
dozen  men  to  the  galleys,  and  the  people  are  reminded 
that  there  are  heretics  whom  they  must  hate." 

"Would  it  not  be  better,  reverend  father,  to  tolerate 
these  heretics  and  teach  the  subjects  of  the  king  to  love 
one  another?  For,  after  all — " 

"No,  no,  sir,"  replied  the  man  in  black  impatiently. 
"No,  indeed,  our  forefathers  never  did  that,  and  they  were 
not  barbarians ;  they  were  very  enlightened  and  humane 
men.  Francis  I.  gave  us  an  example  of  the  manner  in 
which  the  tocsin  should  be  sounded  against  heretics.  If 
he  had  consulted  a  man  like  you,  he  would  have  tolerated 
these  so-called  reformers,  and  perhaps  the  oblivion  in  which 
he  would  have  left  this  sect  would  have  snuffed  it  out. 
But  he  went  to  work  in  a  much  wiser  way.  He  gave  orders 
for  a  large  and  brilliant  procession;  he  himself  marched  at 
the  head  of  it,  accompanied  by  his  son,  bareheaded  and  in  a 
very  devout  and  humble  manner ;  sacred  hymns  were  sung, 
and  with  the  sounds  of  these  sacred  harmonies  very  soon 
mingled  the  shrieks  of  a  number  of  obstinate  heretics  who 
were  burned  alive.  That,  sir,  is  what  I  call  a  good  and 
vigorous  policy ;  for  you  can  well  understand  that  the  ex- 
ample of  such  a  prince  made  a  prompt  and  deep  impression 
on  the  minds  of  the  Parisian  populace,  and  gave  it  the 
taste  for  flaming  stakes  for  a  whole  century." 

The  man  in  black  assumed  such  a  firm  and  haughty 
tone  that  the  master  of  the  house  took  the  hint  and  said  no 
more.  It  was  too  dangerous  a  thing  in  those  fine  days  of 
the  brilliant  century  in  which  Louis  XIV.  reigned  to  speak 
of  humanity  towards  heretics;  for  this  humanity  was  itself 
a  punishable  heresy.  He  therefore  pretended  to  agree  with 
the  ideas  of  the  Jesuit,  and  the  rest  of  the  conversation  was 


50  THE   OLD   CEVENOL 

of  a  very  peaceful  character.  They  admired  the  great 
advantage  of  processions,  each  of  which  is,  so  to  speak, 
a  small  army  of  the  saints,  assembling  under  the  banner 
of  the  parish ;  an  army  whose  zeal  makes  it  capable  of 
undertaking  any  enterprise.  They  agreed  that  it  was 
neither  indecent  nor  cruel  to  drag  a  naked  and  bleeding 
•corpse  through  the  streets.  In  this  connection  they  cited 
from  Homer  the  example  of  Achilles ;  they  admired  the 
impartial  policy  of  the  Jesuits,  who  forced  Protestants  to 
take  the  sacraments  which  they  refused  to  the  Jansenists ; 
in  an  undertone  they  admitted  that  this  society  had  never 
accomplished  a  greater  and  more  diplomatic  move  than  the 
expulsion  of  the  Protestants  from  the  country,  as  the 
Protestants  were  expert  politicians;  they  observed  with 
pride  that  now  for  more  than  a  century  no  one  had  dared 
to  raise  his  voice  against  a  society  so  powerful,  so  wholly 
without  moral  scruple  and  so  unrelenting  in  its  acts  of 
vengeance. 

At  this  point  Ambroise,hearing  a  noise,  hastened  towards 
the  door  of  the  passage  where  he  had  found  refuge.  He 
opened  it  cautiously  and  made  his  way  back  home.  On 
his  way  he  overheard  several  heated  conversations  at  the 
street  corners.  A  sound  of  voices  seemed  to  pervade  the 
entire  town,  like  the  moaning  of  the  sea  whose  waves  are 
gradually  sinking  to  a  calm  after  a  storm.  For  a  long  time 
afterwards  people  talked  about  the  events  of  that  day;  for 
work  had  been  suspended  as  though  for  a  public  holiday. 
In  favor  of  such  exhibitions,  which  our  gentler  manners 
have  ceased  to  appreciate,  it  was  urged  that  they  kept  the 
minds  of  men  in  vigorous  action ;  they  gave  a  polish  to 
manners  and  provided  frequent  holidays  for  the  people, 
who,  of  course,  ought  not  to  keep  at  work  all  the  time 

1  In  further  illustration  of  the  Romish  practice  of  insult- 
ing the  dead  Huguenots  by  dragging  their  corpses  through 


THE   OLD   CEVENOL  51 

the  streets,  the  author  cites  the  following  well-authenticated 
cases : 

In  April,  1749,  Daniel-Etienne  de  la  Montagne,  who  had  died 
at  Catenet,  in  Provence,  and  had  been  buried  in  the  country,  was 
disinterred  by  a  surgeon  named  Pascal  Berault  and  others.  They 
tied  a  cord  around  the  neck  of  the  corpse,  and  dragged  it  all 
through  the  village,  to  the  sound  of  the  drum  and  the  flageolet. 
The  howling  multitude  insulted  the  memory  of  the  dead  man  and 
belabored  the  corpse  with  sticks;  after  which  they  hung  up  the 
corpse  head  downwards,  cut  open  the  body,  tore  out  the  heart  and 
entrails,  and  carried  them  around  in  procession,  and  finished  up  by 
cutting  the  body  in  four  quarters.  These  facts  are  attested  by  the 
official  report  of  the  judge;  but  no  one  was  ever  punished  for  the 
deed. 

Claude  Cabanis,  a  merchant  of  Alais,  in  the  Cevennes,  who 
had  won  universal  esteem  by  the  uprightness  of  his  character,  his 
talents  and  his  charity,  and  had  been  a  most  useful  citizen  in  the 
commune  where  he  had  established  his  business,  died  at  Levaur  the 
I4th  of  July,  1749,  and  was  buried  at  night.  In  spite  of  the  vigorous 
protests  of  the  populace,  he  was  disinterred  at  the  instigation  of 
the  "White  Penitents"  and  cut  to  pieces. 

A  Protestant  minister,  Louis  Ranc,  aged  twenty-five  years, 
having  been  executed  at  Die,  in  1745,  M.  d'Audriffret,  the  sub-dele- 
gate of  the  Intendant,  together  with  a  grand-vicar,  caused  the 
dead  body  to  be  dragged  through  the  streets,  and  compelled  a  young 
Protestant  to  assist  the  executioner  in  his  odious  task. 

The  Jesuit's  reasoning  about  the  Protestants  who  had  abjured 
their  religion  to  save  their  lives  reminds  the  author  of  a  passage  in 
a  speech  of  the  Jesuit  Bourdaloue,  who,  in  an  address  about  charity 
to  the  newly  converted,  said : 

Do  you  not  know,  ladies,  that  there  is  an  infinite  number  of 
poor  people  who  are  in  a  position  of  special  peril?  They  are  but 
half  converted.  I  say  half  converted  because,  in  spite  of  all  ex- 
ternal demonstration  anJ  the  words  that  they  have  spoken,  we 
must  not  suppose  that  everything  necessary  has  been  done,  for,_as 
a  matter  of  fact,  many  have  only  yielded  to  force,  and,  whilst  ^being 
Catholics  outwardly,  are  hardly  to  be  considered  as  Catholics  at 
heart. 

Massillon,  in  a  sermon  on  "True  Worship,"  says: 

It  is  thine,  O  Saviour,  to  change  the  inner  man,  to  bring  back 
the  hearts,  to  enlighten  the  minds  of  those  who  perhaps  have  sub- 
mitted only  to  the  arms  of  man;  that  there  may  be  only  one  fold, 
one  shepherd,  one  heart  and  one  soul  in  thy  church. 


52  THE   OLD   CEVENOL 

That  is  to  say :  "Lord,  we  have  forced  them  to  enter  the  church, 
we  have  carried  death  into  the  bosom  of  three  hundred  thousand 
families,  we  have  leveled  an  irreparable  blow  at  the  state;  there 
they  are  within  the  fold,  now  there  is  nothing  to  do  but  to  convert 
them ;  that  is  thy  work  alone,  we  all  acknowledge." 

With  regard  to  the  refusal  of  the  sacrament  to  the  Jansenists, 
the  author  adds  the  following  note : 

The  entire  town  of  Melun  can  attest  the  following  fact.  Every- 
body remembers  the  scandalous  scenes  that  were  witnessed  in 
France,  and  of  which  the  Jesuits  were  the  authors,  in  connection 
with  the  refusal  of  the  sacraments.  The  bishop  of  the  said  town 
of  Melun,  Monsieur  de  V ,  a  slave  to  Jesuitical  opinions,  other- 
wise a  very  honest  man,  believing  sincerely  that  it  was  not  his  duty 
to  yield  on  this  point  to  superior  orders,  never  wished  to  permit 

the  holy  sacrament  to  be  administered  to  Abbe  R ,  a  Jansenist 

who  was  sick,  and  who  desired  the  sacraments.  The  bishop,  in 
order  to  have  an  excuse  that  to  his  mind  should  be  satisfactory, 
and  one  that  should  relieve  him  of  the  necessity  of  formally  re- 
fusing the  sacrament,  instructed  his  vicar,  Abbe  L ,  to  make 

his  round  in  all  the  parishes  and  to  use  up  all  the  consecrated 
wafers.  Unfortunately,  the  ciboires  were  well  supplied,  and  the 
vicar,  with  much  effort,  had  to  eat  a  large  number  of  them ;  this 
caused  an  attack  of  indigestion  so  serious  that  his  physician  had 
great  difficulty  in  curing  him  without  an  emetic. 


CHAPTER   X. 

Ambroise  made  good  progress  in  his  knowledge  of 
affairs.  He  had  good  business  talents.  Misfortune  had 
developed  his  character  and  trained  him  to  habitual  thought- 
fulness;  thus,  whilst  young  in  years,  he  had  a  maturity  of 
character  that  is  usually  the  fruit  only  of  long  experience. 
His  mother  was  worn  with  grief  and  the  tears  she  had  shed ; 
poverty  and  sorrow  had  furrowed  her  features.  Her  long- 
continued  anguish  had  brought  on  her  a  premature  old  age. 

"My  son,"  she  would  sometimes  say,  "I  have  no  longer 
any  reason  to  love  this  world:  my  sorrows  have  weaned 
my  affections  from  it.  What  better  use  can  I  make  of  the 
little  time  that  remains  to  me  than  to  prepare  for  the  end 
that  is  fast  approaching?  All  the  time  I  do  not  spend  with 
you  I  pass  in  meditation,  in  reading,  in  rendering  to  God 
the  homage  which  is  his  due,  and  in  doing  to  my  fellow- 
creatures  the  little  good  that  is  in  my  power." 

Ambroise  was  very  happy  to  have  these  pleasant  talks 
with  his  mother,  and  he  was  never  so  happy  as  when  he  had 
in  some  way  contributed  to  her  pleasure  and  peace  of  mind. 

One  evening  when  he  went  home  from  business  he  was 
extremely  surprised  not  to  find  his  mother  there:  she  had 
gone  out,  the  neighbors  said,  at  nightfall,  promising  to  be 
back  again  soon.  He  waited  for  her  with  anxiety;  this 
anxiety  increased  with  every  moment.  An  oppressive  sad- 
ness made  his  heart  ache  and  found  vent  in  frequent  sighs. 
Soon  he  became  possessed  with  the  awful  presentiment  of 
some  frightful  catastrophe.  This  was  not  a  false  present- 
iment, for,  about  midnight,  his  mother  came  in,  walking 

53 


54  THE   OLD   CEVENOL 

with  great  difficulty,  and  supported  by  one  of  her  friends. 
Ambroise  was  about  to  speak  some  words  of  loving  re- 
proach ;  but  imagine  his  alarm  when  he  saw,  as  his  mother, 
weeping,  stretched  out  her  arms  to  embrace  him,  that  she 
was  covered  with  blood.  She  fell  fainting  on  his  breast. 
He  did  everything  in  his  power  to  restore  her  to  conscious- 
ness, and  at  last  had  the  happiness  of  seeing  her  open  her 
eyes  and  come  to  herself.  She  then  told  him  that  she  had 
been  to  the  woods  where  a  few  persons  had  gathered  for 
prayer;  that  they  had  been  betrayed,  and  that  soldiers  had 
come  upon  them  unexpectedly  and  had  fired  on  them  at 
short  range.  One-half  of  the  assembly  was  composed  of 
women  and  aged  men,  and  had  been  massacred,  and  the 
rest  had  been  taken  prisoners.  Ambroise's  mother  had 
been  wounded  by  a  shot  beneath  the  ribs.  Ambroise  ran 
for  help  to  a  surgeon.  Ah !  what  bitter  tears  he  shed  when 
he  learned  that  the  wound  was  mortal,  and  that  his  dear 
mother  had  but  a  few  hours  to  live.  But  it  seemed  as 
though  he  were  doomed  to  drink  the  dregs  of  bitterness  in 
this  hour  as  his  mother  was  passing  away;  for  the  surgeon 
drew-  him  on  one  side  and  said :  "I  shall  be  compelled,  sir, 
to  do  my  duty  and  inform  the  parish  priest  of  the  danger 
your  mother  is  in,  in  order  that  he  may  come  to  her  with 
spiritual  help.  I  should  be  punished  myself  if  I  failed  to 
hand  in  the  notice." 

Ambroise  was  terrified,  and  sought  by  tears  and  prayers 
to  prevent  the  surgeon  from  giving  in  the  fatal  notice. 
But  the  surgeon  replied  that  the  declaration  of  the  king 
was  too  explicit;  that  he  should  render  himself  liable  to  a 
fine  of  three  hundred  livres,  and  that  he  could  not  run  the 
risk  of  having  to  pay  such  a  fine  simply  to  do  Ambroise  this 
favor.  As  he  said  this  he  went  towards  the  staircase  and 
descended  in  great  haste. 

Ambroise  knew  what  a  terrible  thing  the  arrival  of  the 


THE   OLD    CEVENOL  55 

priest  was  to  a  dying  person,  for  with  the  priest  came  the 
officers  of  justice.  He  foresaw  them  with  their  entreaties 
and  their  threats;  he  could  imagine  the  drawing  up  of  the 
charge  of  heresy  with  brutal  inconsideration  under  the  very 
eyes  of  the  dying  person.  This  charge  he  knew  would  be  all 
the  more  grave  because  the  surgeon  whom  he  had  im- 
prudently called  in  would  most  certainly  inform  the  priest 
how  his  mother  had  received  the  mortal  wound.  The 
dying  woman's  attachment  to  her  religion  was  well  known, 
and  he  greatly  feared  that  after  her  death  his  dear  mother 
might  be  dragged  through  the  mud  of  the  streets  and  her 
body  finally  thrown  on  the  rubbish  heap.  In  such  a 
moment  his  filial  piety  gave  him  courage  and  a  strength 
he  could  not  have  found  under  other  circumstances.  He 
wrapped  his  mother  in  a  sheet  and  carried  her  off  on  his. 
shoulders,  in  order  to  get  her  away  from  the  persecutions 
which  he  foresaw.  The  weight  of  his  burden  was  such 
that  he  could  not  go  far.  Finding  himself  in  a  narrow,, 
crooked  street  opposite  the  door  of  one  of  his  friends^  he- 
stopped  there.  His  friend  came  down  at  the  sound  of  the 
bell.  With  tears  in  his  eyes,  Ambroise  begged  an  asylum 
for  his  dying  mother ;  he  was  even  preparing  to  take  his 
precious  burden  in.  But  in  those  unhappy  times  each  one 
looked  after  himself,  and  fear  of  one's  own  misfortunes 
made  one  insensible  to  those  of  others. 

"My  dear  Ambroise,"  said  his  friend  to  him,  "I  can 
not  do  you  the  service  you  ask  of  me.  I  know  the  laws: 
they  are  severe  and  the  officers  of  the  law  are  greedy  and 
pitiless.  There  is  a  decree  of  the  king  that  forbids,  under 
penalty  of  a  fine  of  five  hundred  livres,  the  removal,  under 
pretext  of  charity,  of  sick  persons  of  the  pretended  re- 
formed religion.  This  law  is  unjust,  I  know.  It  treads 
all  humane  considerations  underfoot;  I  concede  all  that; 
but  my  fortune  does  not  permit  me  to  make  such  sacrifices,, 


56  THE   OLD   CEVENOL 

and  you   ought,   yourself,   to   perceive   that   already   your 
staying  so  long  at  my  door  may  prove  my  ruin." 

This  was  a  knock-down  blow  to  poor  Ambroise ;  he 
could  hardly  believe  his  ears.  But  his  love  for  his  mother 
gave  him  strength,  and,  taking  his  burden  up  again,  he 
continued  his  journey.  He  groped  his  way  through  the 
darkness ;  yet,  whilst  doing  this  heroic  act,  he  felt  as  guilty 
as  though  he  had  committed  some  great  crime. 

In  a  little,  obscure  street  that  led  out  of  the  town  there 
was  a  deserted  cottage.  It  was  in  this  abandoned  hovel 
that  Ambroise  took  refuge.  His  mother  was  overcome 
with  pain  and  fatigue.  She  was  losing  blood,  and  she 
herself  knew  that  her  end  was  near. 

"No,  dear  mother,"  said  the  son,  "I  can  not  believe  that 
Providence  will  snatch  you  from  my  arms  in  so  cruel  a 
manner.  Heaven  is  just,  and  it  surely  will  not  permit  me 
to  lose  you  at  a  time  when  I  so  much  need  your  help.  Ah ! 
live  to  be  my  consolation  and  my  happiness.  Allow  me  to 
send  this  man  who  has  followed  us  to  beg  some  surgeon 
to  come  and  lend  us  his  aid." 

"No,  no,  my  son,  it  would  be  useless.  Let  me  die  far 
from  those  horrible  men.  .  .  .  Their  help,  my  son — 
perhaps  they  would  refuse  to  help.  Have  they  not  always 
some  royal  decree  to  serve  as  a  pretext  for  their  barbarity? 
And  who  knows  but  what,  in  order  to  refuse  their  help, 
they  would  plead  the  royal  declaration  calling  on  physicians 
to  abandon  a  patient  who,  after  a  second  visit,  should  refuse 
to  give  up  his  religion?  You  are  losing  precious  moments, 
my  dear  son.  Receive  here  my  blessing.  Remember  your 
mother.  Try  to  take  your  brothers  and  sisters  to  a  country 
where  you  will  have  liberty  to  worship  God.  .  .  .  Preserve 
my  bones  from  persecution  by  burying  me  in  some  solitary 
place — " 

The  unfortunate  woman's  voice  was  failing.     She  beg- 


THE   OLD   CEVENOL  57 

ged  her  son  to  stay  in  silence  by  her,  and,  after  having 
given  about  half  an  hour  to  prayer,  she  heaved  her  last  sigh. 

Ambroise  was  desolate  indeed.  He  fondly  kissed  the 
remains  of  the  best  of  mothers.  His  tears  fell  freely  upon 
her.  He  spoke  the  most  touching  words  to  her,  as  though 
she  had  heard  them.  In  the  bewilderment  of  his  mind 
he  seemed  to  expect  each  moment  that  she  would  again  open 
her  eyes  to  the  light.  The  man  who  had  accompanied 
Ambroise  was  touched  with  the  orphan's  grief,  and  did  all 
he  could  to  assuage  the  young  man's  sorrow.  He  at  length 
succeeded  in  dragging  Ambroise  away  from  the  corpse,  over 
which  they  stretched  the  sheet  they  had  brought. 

The  day  had  dawned.  The  sun  shone  in  the  deserted 
cottage.  Ambroise  began  to  be  afraid  of  the  perilous 
position  in  which  he  found  himself.  Fear  came  in  to  divert 
his  grief.  He  arranged  with  this  man,  in  whom  he  could 
trust,  to  go  to  the  town  and  procure  some  provisions  for 
the  day.  Ambroise  determined  to  watch  beside  his  mother, 
and  they  arranged  to  go  at  night  to  a  distant  place  to  bury 
the  dead.  He  was  fortunate  in  not  being  discovered  during 
the  day.  When  the  night  came,  aided  by  some  relatives  and 
friends,  they  furtively  laid  the  remains  of  the  good  woman 
to  rest.  They  had  great  difficulty  in  tearing  Ambroise  from 
his  mother's  grave,  and  it  was  only  after  he  had  exhausted 
himself  by  long-continued  weeping  that  he  at  length  said 

a  last  adieu. 

NOTES  TO  CHAPTER  X. 

The  edict  revoking  the  Edict  of  Nantes  forbade  assemblies, 
and  confiscated  body  and  goods;  the  death  penalty  was  not  ex- 
pressly decreed  until  the  edict  of  July  I,  1686,  by  Article  V.  of  that 
edict.  An  order  of  the  I2th  of  March,  1689,  confirms  this  penalty, 
and  further  decrees  that  those  who  may  not  have  been  taken  in  the 
act,  yet  who  may  have  been  known  to  attend  Protestant  assem- 
blies, shall  be  sent  to  the  galleys  for  life,  by  the  military  com- 
manders or  the  intendants  of  the  provinces,  without  any  legal 
formalities  or  trial.  What  was  the  reason  for  this  unheard-of 
severity,  this  violation  of  the  rights  of  citizenship?  No  citizen 


58  THE   OLD   CEVENOL 

should  be  condemned  to  any  penalty  without  a  regular  trial.  The 
ordinances  of  Louis  XIV.  himself  had  recognized  this  right  of 
the  citizen. 

Every  one  will  admit  that  it  was  outrageous  to  condemn  peace- 
able citizens  to  the  galleys — gentlemen  who  had  even  bled  for  their 
country — yet  condemned  for  no  other  reason  than  that  they  had 
assembled  together,  and,  in  their  own  French  language,  had  prayed 
to  God  for  the  prosperity  of  the  state  and  of  the  king.  It  was 
therefore  a  cruel  injustice  not  only  to  allow  these  orders  to  remain 
in  force,  but  to  confirm  them  by  another,  dated  the  I4th  of  May, 
1724,  after  sixty  years  of  submission,  untroubled  by  a  single  mur- 
mur, had  proved  that  French  Protestants  are  obedient  subjects  and 
faithful  citizens. 

These  royal  decrees  have  been  the  cause  of  the  excesses  com- 
mitted by  the  troops.  On  the  i/th  of  March,  1745,  two  companies 
of  the  regiment  of  La  Rochefoucauld  cavalry  fired  into  a  meeting 
in  the  diocese  of  Lavaur,  where  no  resistance  was  made.  One 
hundred  and  twenty-three  infantry  soldiers  did  the  same  on  the 
21  st  of  the  following  November,  near  Saint-Hippolyte,  in  the 
Cevennes.  On  the  8th  of  September,  1748,  in  the  neighborhood  of 
St.  Ambroix,  in  the  dioce~~  of  Uzes,  a  detachment  of  soldiers  in- 
sulted the  women  and  girls,  tore  from  them  their  rings,  their  silver 
ornaments  and  necklaces,  took  from  them  whatever  money  they 
had,  and  wounded  several  persons.  Some  dragoons  committed 
similar  outrages  at  another  meeting,  on  the  Qth  of  June,  1749,  in 
Dauphiny,  near  to  Montmeyran.  On  the  22d  of  November,  1750, 
several  persons  were  wounded  near  to  Uzes  by  150  men  of  the 
regiment  of  the  He  de  France.  On  this  occasion  the  soldiers  made 
three  hundred  prisoners  who  allowed  themselves  to  be  taken  as 
peaceably  as  lambs,  although  the  meeting,  was  very  large. 

The  decree  compelling  a  medical  attendant  to  give  notice  to 
the  parish  priest  of  the  near  approach  of  death  to  a  Protestant, 
was  issued  through  the  Parliament  of  Toulouse,  and  dated  the  22d 
of  June,  1699. 

The  decree  forbidding  Protestants  to  give  shelter  to  their  suffer- 
ing co-religionists  was  an  Arret  du  Conseil,  dated  4th  of  September, 
1684.  Thus  the  sufferers  were  condemned  to  breathe  the  pestif- 
erous air  of  the  hospitals,  and  it  was  made  a  crime  to  practice  the 
virtues  enjoined  by  the  gospel  of  Jesus  Christ. 


CHAPTER   XI. 

In  ardent  and  vivacious  souls  sorrow  finds  vent  in 
paroxysms  of  violent  emotions,  and  the  very  violence  itself 
is  a  relief.  It  is  far  otherwise  with  strong  and  sensitive 
souls.  To  them  a  sorrow  is  ever  present;  they  commune 
with  themselves  alone,  and  in  this  self-communion  the  sor- 
row becomes  more  enduring  and  deeper.  Nature  had  given 
to  Ambroise  this  type  of  character ;  a  long  series  of  troubles 
had  tended  to  strengthen  his  spirit  and  cultivated  within 
him  the  habit  of  deep  reflection.  He  was  continually  re- 
hearsing to  himself  the  sad  experiences  of  his  life,  from 
the  death  of  his  father  to  the  death  of  his  mother;  all  the 
"Declarations"  of  the  king  which  had  borne  so  cruelly  upon 
him  and  those  dear  to  him,  and  which  would  probably  con- 
tinue to  do  so  to  the  end  of  his  days.  He  observed  how  all 
these  royal  declarations  stirred  up  a  popular  hatred  against 
those  of  his  religion,  and,  in  face  of  this  fact  and  the  con- 
stant punishments  that  were  inflicted  on  them,  he  groaned 
inwardly.  He  had  not  forgotten  his  mother's  dying  request 
that  he  would  try  to  deliver  his  brothers  and  sisters  and 
convey  them  into  a  free  country.  He  resolved  to  do  his 
utmost  to  accomplish  this  task.  He  was  constantly,  in  his 
imagination,  taking  flight  into  those  happy  lands  where  at 
last  he  hoped  to  find  liberty  of  conscience  and  rest.  He  had 
seen  hundreds  of  letters  from  refugees  in  which  they  ex- 
pressed the  joy  they  felt  in  finding  themselves  out  of  France. 
The  joy  of  these  unfortunate  exiles  was  so  intense  that, 
immediately  they  were  well  over  the  frontier,  they  fell  upon 
their  knees  and  rendered  thanks  to  Heaven;  in  transports 


60  THE   OLD   CEVENOL 

of  happiness  they  kissed  the  soil  of  the  land  that  gave  them 
hospitality,  and,  looking  back  to  their  native  land,  they  shed 
tears  of  sympathy  for  those  who  were  still  imprisoned  there. 
These  accounts  from  the  exiles  so  excited  the  imagination 
of  the  French  Protestants  that  they  left  the  country  by 
hundreds  and  by  thousands.  The  plows  were  abandoned 
in  the  fields,  cattle  were  abandoned,  manufactures  ceased, 
and  at  length  the  bands  of  fugitives  were  so  large  that 
neither  guards  nor  constables  nor  armed  peasants  dared  to 
arrest  their  march. 

Ah!  what  evils  came  on  France  as  a  consequence  of 
these  forced  desertions.  They  can  never  be  fully  estimated. 
Not  only  did  our  country  lose  her  most  useful  subjects; 
not  only  were  the  gold,  the  silver  and  the  arts  of  France 
carried  into  other  lands,  but  soon  manufactures  and  business 
generally  dwindled  all  over  the  country.  The  reports  of  the 
provincial  governors  bear  ample  testimony  to  fearful  losses 
that  resulted  from  these  events. 

Ambroise  made  great  efforts  to  induce  his  brothers  and 
sisters  to  escape  from  the  convents  in  which  they  were  con- 
fined and  to  follow  him  into  exile.  He  had  great  difficulty 
in  getting  any  news  at  all  of  them.  It  would  be  too  long  a 
story  to  tell  how  at  last  he  succeeded,  and  all  he  learned 
about  the  manner  in  which  they  were  treated.  He  waited 
several  months  in  order  to  give  them  time  to  make  their 
escape;  but,  seeing  at  length  that  his  waiting  was  in  vain, 
he  decided  to  take  the  road  to  the  Swiss  frontier  and  thence 
to  make  his  way  to  Holland,  where  he  had  some  relatives. 
He  very  readily  found  some  traveling  companions.  It  was 
just  at  that  time  that  the  declaration  of  the  king  had  been 
republished  ordering  parents  to  have  their  children  baptized 
within  forty-eight  hours.  The  "converters"  were  very 
zealous  in  carrying  out  this  law,  and  the  Protestants  found 
this  kind  of  persecution  most  insupportable.  They  said  the 


THE    OLD   CEVENOL  61 

church  regards  as  her  own  the  children  she  baptizes.  One 
day  she  will  come  and  claim  them  and  put  them  in  convents. 
The  Protestants  would  never  promise  to  bring  up  their 
children  in  the  Romish  religion,  but  such  a  promise  was  re- 
quired of  every  parent  who  permitted  a  child  to  be  baptized 
by  a  Romish  priest.  The  Protestants  knew  very  well  that 
this  baptism  was  only  a  pretext  for  undermining  the  parents' 
authority  over  the  child.  They  remembered  the  violent 
struggles  that  had  been  caused  by  this  same  measure  some 
years  previously,  when  it  was  said  that  some  children  had 
perished  in  their  parents'  arms  in  the  violent  endeavor  of 
the  priests  to  snatch  the  child  away.  The  alarm  every- 
where became  so  terrible  that  entire  families  went  off  into 
exile.  Whereas,  previously  to  that  time,  only  individuals, 
exasperated  under  a  sense  of  personal  wrong,  passed  over 
the  frontier,  now  it  was  that  fathers  and  mothers,  wounded 
in  their  most  tender  affections,  gathered  together  all  that 
they  could  carry  of  their  earthly  goods,  and,  taking  their 
children  with  them,  sought  to  flee  the  country. 

In  order  that  his  flight  might  be  the  more  secret  and 
sure,  Ambroise  joined  a  party  of  not  more  than  a  dozen 
persons,  who  made  their  way  along  the  most  obscure  roads 
and  marched  only  during  the  night,  in  order  to  avoid 
the  guards  and  Catholics,  for  all  Catholics,  as  well  as  the 
dragoons,  seemed  to  think  they  had  a  perfect  right  to  rob 
and  murder  their  fellow-countrymen.  "Good  citizens,"  they 
said,  "ought  to  be  zealous  in  working  for  the  good  of 
the  country." 

To  this  chapter  the  editor  appends  the  following  extract  from 
Benoit's  "History  of  the  Edict  of  Nantes,"  by  way  of  illustrating 
the  treatment  accorded  to  Protestant  children  by  the  monks  and 
nuns  in  the  convents : 

The  records  of  those  times  have  preserved  to  us  accounts  of 
the  methods  employed  by  the  monks  and  nuns  in  their  attempts  to 
convert  the  children  of  Protestants.  They  made  use  of  pretended 


€2  THE   OLD   CEVENOL 

visions,  sham  miracles,  curses  that  they  said  were  pronounced 
against  obstinate  children,  promises,  threats,  rewards,  punishments, 
imprisonments,  fasts,  branding  of  infamous  marks  on  the  body : 
everything  possible  was  done  to  reduce  them  to  submission.  iUany 
children  were  reduced  to  a  most  pitiable  condition  by  such  treat- 
ment; several  were  driven  out  of  their  mind  by  persistent  perse- 
cution. A  young  girl  of  Balleme,  who  was  imprisoned  at  Alencon 
in  a  house  established  to  receive  little  girls,  drew  upon  herself,  by 
her  constancy,  the  hatred  of  the  sisters  who  conducted  the  establish- 
ment. One  day  they  thrashed  her  with  rods  until  she  was  covered 
with  blood,  and  by  other  bad  treatment,  made  her  an  epileptic.  .  .  . 
Children  were  imprisoned  in  dark,  damp  and  dirty  dungeons,  and, 
as  the  sisters  placed  them  there,  they  would  tell  them  that  demons 
would  come  to  them.  .  .  .  They  forced  the  children  to  attend  the 
mass.  Rods  were  the  favorite  instruments  of  torture  employed 
by  the  nuns  against  these  children,  whom  they  treated  with  all  the 
refinements  of  cruelty  that  seem  to  be  a  peculiar  product  of  the 
religious  communities.  At  Uzes  these  outrages  were  legalized. 
The  sister  superior  of  a  House  for  the  Newly  Converted  com- 
plained of  the  rebellion  of  some  girls  who  did  not  seem  to  be 
sufficiently  good  Catholics.  They  were  condemned  to  be  whipped 
by  the  nuns,  and  the  punishment  was  administered  in  the  presence 
of  the  major  of  the  regiment  at  Vivonne  and  of  the  judge  of  the 
town.  There  were  eight  girls  punished,  the  youngest  being  sixteen 
and  the  oldest  twenty-three,  yet  the  punishment  was  administered  to 
them  as  though  they  were  little  children.  They  were  whipped  in 
the  presence  of  a  number  of  their  companions  for  the  sake  of 
serving  as  examples.  During  the  punishment  the  young  women 
reproached  the  nuns  for  their  false  piety,  that  thus  outraged  the 
modesty  of  their  sex. 

The  royal  declaration  referred  to  in  this  chapter  as  obliging 
Protestant  parents  to  have  their  children  baptized  by  a  Romish 
priest  within  forty-eight  hours  is  dated  Dec.  13,  1698 :  Article  VIII. 


CHAPTER   XII. 

On  the  whole,  this  is  a  pretty  good  century  we  are  living 
in.  We  no  longer  place  little  children  in  the  red-hot  arms 
of  a  copper  statue ;  we  no  longer  imitate  the  torture  known 
as  the  "Bull  of  Phalaris;"  we  no  longer  see  seven  or  eight 
monarchs,  followed  by  their  subjects,  with  cross  on  breast 
or  shoulder,  invade  the  kingdom  of  another;  there  is  prob- 
ably not  a  living  monarch  who  has  the  remotest  intention 
of  repeating  the  little  blood-letting  of  St.  Bartholomew's 
Day;  I  even  believe  that  it  is  now  more  than  thirty  years 
since  a  witch  or  a  heretic  has  been  burned.  I  frankly 
admit  that  I  much  prefer  a  condition  of  social  calm  and 
peace,  and,  if  it  was  a  necessity  that,  in  the  history  of 
humanity,  there  should  be  a  period  of  massacres,  of  burn- 
ings, of  imprisonments  and  other  national  tragedies,  I  very 
much  prefer  that  they  should  be  in  the  past  than  in  the 
present.  I  observe,  even  with  a  great  deal  of  pleasure,  that 
our  manners  have  a  tendency  to  become  gentler  and  to  lean 
towards  peace  and  mutual  helpfulness :  here  and  there  char- 
itable institutions  are  being  founded;  every  useful  idea  is 
patronized  by  some  prince.  I  confess  that  I  am  greatly 
pleased  when  I  read  an  article  that  pleads  for  toleration, 
because,  after  all,  it  seems  to  me  that  monarchs  are  largely 
governed  by  public  opinion:  like  the  common  people,  they 
are  but  the  heirs  of  the  ideas  they  have  received  from 
others ;  all  are  creatures  of  environment. 

I  sometimes  hear  grumblers  praising  "the  good  old 
times."  I  always  feel  sorry  for  them  that  they  had  the 

misfortune  to  be  born  a  hundred  years  too  late.     Ah!  if 

63 


64  THE   OLD    CEVENOL 

they  had  but  come  in  the  glorious  days  of  French  history, 
in  the  brilliant  and  destructive  century  of  the  Fenelons  and 
the  Bavilles,  of  the  Racines  and  the  Marillacs,  of  the  La- 
Fontaines  and  of  the  d'Herapines,  of  the  Corneilles  and  the 
Pere-la-Chaises,  how  their  souls  would  have  rejoiced  at 
the  interesting  events  that  occurred  in  the  provinces !  Whilst 
Louis  the  Great,  at  Paris,  was  attending  the  comedies  of 
Moliere  or  the  harmonious  dramas  of  Quinault,  of  whose 
prologues  he  was  especially  fond,  the  common  people  in  the 
little  towns  witnessed  real  tragedies.  One  day  it  would  be 
a  gang  of  prisoners  on  their  way  to  the  galleys,  marching 
on  amidst  the  jeers  and  insults  of  the  crowd.  Another  day 
it  would  be  the  public  whipping  by  the  common  hangman 
of  pious  old  Huguenots,  or  young  boys,  or  some  beautiful 
young  girl.  Another  day  it  would  be  a  picnic  party  to  go 
and  see  half  a  dozen  people  hanged.  And  these  sights  were 
not  rare.  How  often  has  the  cry  been  raised,  "Panem  et 
cir censes"  (the  people  must  have  bread  and  public  sports)  ; 
but  if  we  can  only  find  amusements  that  harden  and  bru- 
talize manners,  is  not  that  the  very  acme  of  political  wis- 
dom? 

Such  were  the  sights  that  in  those  days  were  witnessed 
in  the  French  provinces,  and  which  Ambroise  beheld  during 
his  flight.  He  and  his  companions  suffered  great  hardships 
in  their  journey.  The  governors  had  issued  orders  forbid- 
ding the  supply  of  food  to  travelers  not  having  chaplets — 
beads  for  counting  the  number  of  prayers  offered  to  the 
Virgin  Mary.  But  our  fugitives  found  in  the  woods  wild 
fruits  and  roots,  by  which  they  managed  to  keep  up  their 
strength.  Everywhere  they  passed  through  desolated  re- 
gions, farms  absolutely  deserted,  and  lands  laid  waste;  or 
met  Catholic  laborers,  victims  of  the  misguided  national  zeal, 
begging  their  bread,  or  else  wearing  a  cockade  in  order  to 
have  the  privilege  of  taking  it  without  the  trouble  of  asking 


THE   OLD    CEVENOL  6S- 

for  it.  As  they  passed  through  villages  they  found  the 
houses  wide  open,  streets  full  of  broken  household  effects, 
provisions  destroyed  or  wasted — a  perfect  solitude.  The 
country  had  all  the  appearance  of  having  been  overrun  by 
a  foreign  invader.  The  highways  were  filled  with  soldiers, 
constables,  prisoners,  fugitives,  beggars,  robbers  and  bodies 
of  murdered  people.  Such  was  the  spectacle  offered  to 
Europe  of  that  France  that  was  supposed  to  aspire  to 
universal  monarchy. 

But  in  those  days  foreign  countries  had  a  far  different 
policy.  The  Edict  of  Nantes  was  revoked  in  the  month  of  f 
October,  1685.  As  soon  as  the  Elector  of  Brandenburg 
received  the  news,  the  2Qth  of  the  same  month  he  published 
an  edict  by  which  he  invited  the  oppressed  who  had  been 
driven  from  their  own  country  to  come  to  his.  As  allure- 
ments to  draw  them  into  his  country,  he  offered  them  con- 
siderable privileges,  pensions,  homes  ready  for  them,  espe- 
cially churches  where  they  might  worship  God.  He  dis- 
tributed them  in  colonies  over  his  estates,  and  there  they 
found  ministers  to  preach  to  them  and  judges  to  judge  them 
in  their  own  language.  Several  princes  of  Germany;  the 
princes  of  Lunebourg,  the  landgraves  of  Hesse-Cassel  and 
Hesse-Hombourg,  the  margrave  of  Bayreuth,  imitated  this 
example.  French  villages  were  transported  entire  into  the 
forests  of  Germany,  there  to  keep  the  name  that  was  dear 
to  them  and  where  they  continued  to  speak  in  their  own 
sweet  mother  tongue. 

England  collected  large  sums  of  money  for  the  enter- 
tainment of  refugees,  and  sent  a  great  number  of  them  to 
the  Indies  with  considerable  advantage  to  herself  as  well  as 
to  the  fugitives.  Holland  did  twenty  times  more  for  them ; 
she  lavished  on  them  pensions  and  gave  help  to  the  fugitive 
soldiers,  to  the  nobles  and  ministers.  Entire  regiments  were 

formed  of  refugees.    The  very  sight  of  these  thousands  of. 

5 


66  THE   OLD   CEVENOL 

refugees  scattered  in  the  North,  their  tears,  their  regrets 
and  their  curses  even,  contributed  to  embitter  other  nations 
against  France. and  to  give  to  the  allies,  in  the  subsequent 
wars,  that  stubbornness  that  brought  France  to  the  very 
verge  of  ruin.  The  ambassadors  of  His  Most  Christian 
Majesty  all  wrote  to  the  court  reporting  these  things,  but 
the  heart  of  Louis  was  consoled  by  the  sight  of  the  statues 
that  the  church  raised  to  his  honor  and  the  glory  that  he 
found  in  banishing  heresy  from  his  realm. 

Ambroise  and  his  companions,  as  they  wandered  through 
the  woods,  came  across  several  fugitive  Protestants  under 
various  disguises.  Some  of  these  joined  their  company, 
which  was  thus  getting  bigger  and  bigger.  They  journeyed 
long  by  obscure  country  roads  and  through  a  rough  moun- 
tainous country,  and  at  length  arrived  a  few  leagues  south 
of  the  city  of  Lyons  at  a  point  where  their  guides  told  them 
it  would  be  necessary  to  cross  the  river  Rhone.  They  had 
the  good  fortune  to  find  a  man  with  a  boat  whom  they  paid 
to  transport  them  to  the  other  side.  But  it  was  an  unfor- 
tunate day  for  them.  Their  movements  had  been  watched 
from  a  neighboring  village,  and  soon  they  heard  the  tocsin 
give  the  alarm  and  presently  a  score  of  armed  peasants 
rushed  down  upon  them.  These  good  men  were  actuated 
by  two  powerful  motives :  their  zeal  for  religion  and  the 
prospect  of  plunder.  By  the  king's  decree,  one-third  of  the 
plunder  taken  from  the  fugitives  would  belong  to  those  who 
had  been  able  to  arrest  them ;  these  wise  and  gentle  laws 
had  the  effect  of  constantly  keeping  one  class  of  Frenchmen 
in  arms  against  another.  Another  third  would  belong,  by 
the  same  decree,  to  the  informers,  a  respectable  class  of  men 
that,  of  course,  every  well-governed  state  must  employ.  So 
that,  if  any  one  should  be  so  ill  advised  as  to  help  these  poor 
fugitives  to  escape  pursuit  or  to  help  them  in  their  escape, 
the  least  in  the  world,  another  law,  not  less  sagacious, 


THE   OLD   CEVENOL  67 

passed  the  7th  of  May,  1686,  condemned  these  officious 
persons  to  the  galleys.  There  were  so  many  persons  whose 
kindness  of  heart  led  them  to  forget  this  law,  that,  in  the 
year  of  grace  1687,  this  penalty  of  the  galleys  was  con- 
sidered to  be  too  lenient,  and  by  the  legislature  was  com- 
muted to  a  death  penalty.  By  these  holy  decrees  everybody 
was  excited  and  aroused,  so  that  the  very  peasants  were 
animated  by  a  zeal  for  the  upholding  of  the  law  and  every- 
where kept  a  sharp  lookout  for  fugitives. 

Ambroise  and  his  companions  resolved  to  defend  them- 
selves, and,  pretending  to  arrange  themselves  in  order  of 
battle,  they  marched  boldly  to  meet  the  peasants,  who  im- 
mediately took  fright  and  fled,  leaving  the  Protestants  free 
to  continue  their  march.  But  their  trouble  was  only  post- 
poned; they  were  watched,  followed,  and  two  days  after 
were  arrested  in  Dauphiny  with  their  guides.  Ambroise, 
who  well  knew  the  king's  decrees  and  the  penalty  that  he 
had  incurred  by  simply  attempting  to  leave  the  country, 
looked  upon  himself  as  now  doomed  to  spend  the  rest  of  his 
days  as  a  prisoner  in  the  galleys.  He  resigned  himself  to 
his  fate  as  a  man  who  had  no  hope  of  being  able  to  avoid  it. 

The  day  following,  they  were  conducted  to  the  point  on 
the  road  where  they  were  to  join  the  chain-gang.  They 
were  chained  by  the  neck  to  thieves ;  the  chains  weighed 
from  forty  to  fifty  pounds.  The  food  given  to  them  was  of 
the  coarsest  kind  and  but  little  in  quantity ;  and  if  they  fell 
from  weakness,  they  were  beaten  with  sticks.  When  they 
reached  the  rendezvous  of  the  prisoners,  they  saw  a  crowd 
of  respectable  people — merchants,  lawyers,  gentlemen — who 
had  been  arrested  like  themselves ;  several  of  these  were 
deserving  of  respect  on  account  of  their  age,  their  infirm- 
ities and  their  long  service  to  society.  Thus  they  arrived  at 
Valence. 

However,  word  was  sent  from  Marseilles  that  the  galleys 


68  THE   OLD   CEFENOL 

and  prisons  were  full,  that  they  had  also  filled  with  prisoners 
all  the  strong  buildings  in  the  neighborhood,  and  that  they 
would  not  be  able  to  receive  any  more.  It  was  first  of  all 
decided,  in  the  meantime,  to  put  these  prisoners  in  dungeons, 
and  as  it  was  proposed  to  place  them  in  the  most  horrible 
dungeons  that  could  be  found,  several  prisons  were  sug- 
gested which  were  renowned  for  dungeons  notoriously  in- 
fected and  filthy.  At  Bourgoin,  it  was  said,  the  dungeons 
are  so  deep,  so  narrow  and  so  damp  that  they  let  the  pris- 
oners down  into  them  by  ropes  under  their  armpits,  and 
that  the  strongest,  after  being  in  one  for  two  hours,  would 
faint  away.  The  dungeons  at  Grenoble  had  also  their  dis- 
tinction; for  they  are  so  cold  and  damp  that,  at  the  end  of 
a  few  weeks,  the  prisoners  lose  their  hair  and  teeth.  Then, 
again,  there  was  the  dungeon  of  Flocelliere,  through  which 
passed  the  sewerage  from  the  neighboring  convent,  and 
whither  the  people  of  the  place  took  the  trouble  to  take 
carrion  in  order  to  intensify  the  stench.  Added  to  all  this, 
the  dragoons  had  a  precious  invention  of  their  own.  They 
would  throw  sheeps'  entrails  into  the  dungeons  by  way  of 
adding  to  the  odors.  This  playful  diversion  they  called 
"throwing  bombs." 

If  any  of  the  readers  of  this  history  have  specially  strong 
nerves,  and  are  endowed  with  a  certain  coarseness  of  soul, 
they  may  be  able  to  note  with  pleasure  that,  in  this  fine 
century  of  Louis  XIV.,  the  minds  of  men  had  a  peculiar 
energy,  and  that  they  had  not  been  softened  by  reading 
Montesquieu,  and  the  Marquis  of  Beccaria's  work  on 
"Crimes  and  Punishments."  Such  will  doubtless  shudder  to 
think  that  the  Government  could  be  so  ill  advised  as  to 
suppress  laws  that,  if  they  were  allowed  to  remain  upon  the 
statute  books,  would  at  least  perpetuate  the  same  hardy 
spirit,  the  disappearance  of  which  in  these  degenerate  days 
is  doubtless  to  them  a  matter  of  deep  regret. 


THE   OLD   CEVENOL  69 

Ambroise  was  at  first  thrown,  with  two  of  his  com- 
panions, into  a  very  narrow  dungeon  where  they  could  not 
possibly  sleep  all  through  the  night,  because  their  chains 
were  left  upon  them.  They  could  hear  dismal  cries  as  of 
women  groaning  frightfully,  but  after  awhile  the  groans 
were  exchanged  for  singing  of  psalms :  soon  voices  joined 
in  the  hymns  from  all  parts  of  the  prison.  Our  three 
prisoners  were  greatly  moved  to  hear  this  concert  of  praise 
rising  from  prison  dungeons,  and  began  themselves  to  join 
in ;  thus  for  an  hour  or  so  this  horrible  place  resounded  with 
the  songs  of  praise  of  those  who  were  shut  up  there.  But 
these  songs  were  succeeded  by  piercing  shrieks,  which  came 
from  a  dungeon  which  was  located  above  the  one  in  which 
Ambroise  and  his  companions  were.  Some  one  was  brutally 
cowhiding  two  women.  This  horrible  ordeal  lasted  nearly 
half  an  hour ;  at  length  the  door  was  slammed  to,  and  Am- 
broise could  hear  nothing  but  groans  and  sobs.  Our  pris- 
oners were  impatient  to  know  who  these  women  were  whose 
situation  seemed  to  be  even  worse  than  their  own ;  they 
succeeded  in  pulling  out  a  few  bricks  and  thus  establishing 
a  verbal  communication  with  the  women,  from  whom  they 
learned  who  they  were  and  whither  they  were  going.  The 
women,  on  their  part,  gained  similar  information  from 
Ambroise  and  his  companions.  It  was  on  account  of  re- 
ligion that  they  had  all  to  endure  this  horrible  treatment. 
They  were  the  daughters  of  M.  Ducros,  a  lawyer  of 
Languedoc ;  they  had  refused  to  give  up  their  religion,  and 
for  that  reason  had  been  sent  to  the  general  hospital  of 
Valence,  in  accordance  with  a  royal  decree  dated  Sept.  3, 
1685,  which  ordains  that  women  who  refuse  to  be  converted 
shall  receive  discipline  in  convents.  By  an  interpretation 
that  was  even  worse  than  the  law  itself,  these  young  women 
had  been  placed  in  the  hands  of  the  director  of  this  hospital, 
a  man  named  Herapine.  This  rascal  did  not  allow  a  day  to 


70  THE   OLD   CEVENOL 

pass  without  hanging  these  girls  up  by  the  hands,  perfectly 
naked,  and  beating  them  with  switches  and  rods.  They  had 
hardly  anything  to  cover  themselves  with,  and  the  only 
clothing  supplied  to  them  was  underwear,  foul  with  blood 
and  pus,  that  had  been  worn  by  the  patients  in  the  hospital. 
They  had  to  lie  upon  the  ground  in  an  infected  dungeon, 
and  the  food  given  to  them  was  more  apt  to  poison  than  to 
nourish  them.  There  were  four  daughters  of  a  merchant 
of  Languedoc  also  imprisoned  here  and  subjected  to  the 
same  tortures.  A  few  days  previously  M.  Menuret,  lawyer 
of  Montelimar,  who  had  been  arrested  for  attempting  to 
leave  the  kingdom,  had  died  there  whilst  being  beaten  with 
a  stick.  It  would  take  days  to  tell  the  story  of  the  frightful 
treatment  the  prisoners  had  to  undergo.  They  encouraged 
each  other.  They  recalled  to  mind  consolatory  passages  of 
Scripture  until  the  break  of  day.  After  awhile  the  dungeon 
doors  were  opened;  the  prisoners  were  aroused  with  the 
blows  of  sticks  which,  they  were  given  to  understand,  were 
as  much  by  way  of  punishment  for  singing  psalms  in  the 
night  as  to  make  them  hurry;  but  our  prisoners,  far  from 
murmuring  at  this  treatment,  prayed  for  their  tormentors, 
who,  nevertheless,  continued  the  spiteful  treatment. 

The  following  historical  note  is  added  by  the  editor  of  the 
edition  from  which  this  translation  is  made: 

As  some  curious  readers  might  be  disposed  to  search  amongst 
the  parliamentary  reports  for  this  royal  declaration  of  Sept.  3, 
1685,  I  may  as  well  forewarn  them  that  they  will  not  find  it.  There 
are  several  royal  decrees  that  were  judged  by  various  parliaments 
to  be  so  hard  that  they  refused  to  register  them.  From  this  fact 
it  would  appear  that  the  decrees  they  did  register  were,  in  their 
opinion,  just  and  merciful,  since  they  not  only  registered  them,  but 
also  caused  them  to  be  rigorously  enacted.  However  that  may  be, 
the  following  has  been  preserved  in  the  records  of  those  times : 

"Louis,  by  the  grace  of  God  king  of  France  and  Navarre,  to 
all  to  whom  these  presents  may  come,  greeting.  The  governors  of 
our  provinces  having  brought  to  our  knowledge  the  docility  with 
which  many  of  our  subjects,  who  unfortunately  had  inherited  the 
heresies  of  Calvin,  are  returning  daily  into  the  bosom  of  the 


THE   OLD   CEVENOL  71 

Church  of  Rome,  our  mother,  being  constrained  thereto  by  the 
living  light  that  our  bishops  and  missionaries  are  spreading  abroad 
on  every  side,  as  well  as  by  that  filial  inclination  which  they  right- 
fully have  to  submit  to  the  paternal  measures  that  we  have  so  long 
adopted  to  bring  them  back  again  to  the  way  of  salvation ;  we  have 
judged  it  to  be  proper  to  our  royal  piety  and  duty  to  forget  nothing 
in  the  accomplishing  of  the  work  of  the  Lord. 

"Furthermore,  we  have  been  informed  that  nothing  has  been 
so  antagonistic  to  the  holy  resolution  with  which  God  has  inspired 
us  to  purge  our  kingdom  entirely  of  heresy,  as  the  stubbornness  of 
women,  who  not  only  refuse  the  instructions  that  Catholics  so 
charitably  offer  them  day  by  day,  but  also  carry  dissension  into  their 
homes  by  disputing  with  their  husbands  and  relatives  who  mani- 
fest an  inclination  to  embrace  our  holy  religion.  With  a  desire  of 
putting  an  end  to  such  scandals  and  criminal  disobedience  to  hus- 
bands and  relatives,  we  order  that  all  women  and  girls  who,  within 
eight  days  of  the  publication  of  this  decree,  shall  not  have  abjured 
the  heresy  of  Calvin,  shall  be  shut  up  in  convents  to  be  instructed 
for  one  month,  after  which,  if  they  still  display  a  stubborn  spirit, 
they  shall  be  constrained  to  fast,  to  watch,  to  pray,  to  receive  dis- 
cipline with  the  others  in  the  convents  where  they  may  be  until 
their  conversion  is  entirely  accomplished.  We  further  command 
husbands  and  relatives  to  denounce  their  wives,  daughters  and 
relatives  who  shall  be  found  liable  to  our  present  decree,  under 
penalty  of  punishment  in  accordance  with  the  instructions  that  we 
have  given  to  our  governors,  whom  we  expressly  forbid  to  use  any 
leniency  towards  transgressors.  We  further  command  to  punish, 
if  necessary,  with  fines  and  bodily  pains,  those  who  would  even  ask 
for  a  relaxation  of  the  severity  of  our  laws  in  favor  of  any  one, 
whoever  it  may  be,  without  exception. 

"Given  at  Versailles  the  3rd  September,  1685,  the  forty-third 
year  of  our  reign. 

"(Signed)   Louis  (and  lower)   PHILEPEAUX." 

As  an  illustration  of  the  benefits  resulting  to  other  countries  by 
the  intolerance  of  France,  the  editor  mentions  the  colony  of  Fred- 
erichsdorf,  in  Hesse-Hombourg,  which  is  entirely  composed  of 
French  refugees,  who,  by  their  commerce,  their  manufactures  and 
their  manners,  are  in  a  perfectly  well-to-do  condition,  and  show 
themselves  worthy  of  the  protection  of  the  sovereign  whom  it  is 
their  happiness  to  uphold. 

As  illustrating  the  respectable  character  of  the  prisoners  who 
were  subjected  to  the  humiliating  torture  of  marching  across  coun- 
try to  the  galleys  in  the  chain-gang,  the  editor  says : 

I  could  produce  lists  of  three  thousand  persons  arrested  in  the 
provinces  since  1744  at  their  religious  meetings.  These  arrests  were 
made  principally  in  upper  and  lower  Languedoc,  the  Cevennes, 
Vivarais,  Dauphiny,  Provence,  the  Comte  de  Foix,  Poitou  and 


12  TPIE    OLD   CEVEXOL 

Saintonge.  Not  to  mention  the  common  people,  one  may  count 
more  than  six  hundred  private  gentlemen,  lawyers,  physicians,  good 
citizens  and  rich  merchants  who  endured  all  that  is  most  onerous  of 
a  hard  and  long  captivity,  which  could  be  ended  only  by  the  payment 
of  fines  and  contributions  that  were  as  ruinous  as  they  were  arbi- 
trary. More  than  a  thousand  others  have  been  condemned  to  infamous 
penalties.  In  this  number  there  are  about  a  hundred  gentlemen 
of  wealth.  The  parliament  of  Grenoble  alone  summoned  three  hun- 
dred persons  in  1744,  subjecting  them  to  heavy  traveling  expenses 
and  legal  costs.  In  the  month  of  July,  1746,  the  same  court  depu- 
tized Sieur  Cotte  with  his  marshals  and  an  escort  of  two  hundred 
.soldiers.  Wherever  they  went  they  subjected  people  to  the  worst 
sufferings  on  no  other  evidence  than  the  simple  denunciation  of  the 
priests.  Later  on  similar  visitations  were  made  in  Dauphiny,  when 
more  than  three  hundred  persons  were  condemned  to  death,  to  the 
galleys,  to  be  whipped,  to  the  pillory,  to  banishment,  to  prison  for 
life  or  for  various  periods,  to  degradation  from  the  nobility  or  to 
expenses  or  pecuniary  fines.  Fifty-three  gentlemen — among  them 
were  the  Sieurs  Bournat,  Berger,  Bayles,  Saint  Dizier,  Bonnet, 
Chatillon,  Oste,  Trescou,  Chateau-Double  and  Saint-Julien — were 
degraded  and  six  were  sent  to  the  galleys. 

In  1745,  1746,  1747,  1750  and  1751,  more  than  three  hundred 
persons,  amongst  whom  were  forty  gentlemen  and  two  chevaliers 
de  Saint-Louis,  were  condemned  to  the  galleys  for  life  by  the  par- 
liament of  Bordeaux  and  by  the  governors  of  Auch,  Montpellier, 
Perpignan,  Poitiers,  Montauban  and  La  Rochelfe.  Couserans  alone 
furnishes  fifty-four  examples.  Five  were  even  condemned  to  death 
in  1746  and  1747.  These  sentences  were  pronounced  by  the  gov- 
ernor of  Montauban,  and  the  parliaments  of  Bordeaux  and 
•Grenoble. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

The  chain-gang  moved  slowly  on  its  way  towards 
Marseilles.  The  number  of  prisoners  increased  daily  beyond 
all  expectation.  The  guards  were  at  a  loss  to  know  what  to 
do  with  them.  The  only  parties  who  were  pleased  with  this 
state  of  things  were  those  who  had  the  contract  for  feeding 
the  prisoners ;  for  as  the  food  they  provided  was  small  in 
quantity  and  bad  in  quality,  they  doubtless  made  consider- 
able profits. 

Several  days  went  by  during  which  the  prisoners  were 
hourly  expecting  to  be  put  aboard  the  galleys  in  fulfillment 
of  their  sentences.  But  it  was  announced  to  them  that,  as 
a  mark  of  special  favor,  they  were  to  be  transported  to  the 
New  World.  Far  from  rejoicing  at  this  news,  they  shud- 
dered when  they  heard  it :  because  they  had  heard  that  exiles 
transported  to  the  New  World  were  treated  like  African 
slaves.  But  all  their  sighs  and  groans  were  useless ;  they 
had  to  do  with  men  who  listened  to  neither  reason  nor 
mercy.  The  embarkment  was  hurried  forward.  The  con- 
tractors who  had  undertaken  the  transportation  to  the  New 
World  saw  with  alarm  that  some  of  the  prisoners  were 
dying  every  day,  and,  fearing  to  lose  the  money  they  had 
already  expended,  also  the  bonus  that  was  paid  on  the 
embarkation  of  each  prisoner,  they  insisted  so  vehemently, 
and  used  bribes  so  judiciously,  that  soon  everything  was 
ready  for  the  departure.  The  exiles  burst  into  tears  when 
they  saw  the  ships ;  they  prostrated  themselves  on  the  shore ; 
they  fervently  kissed  the  soil  that  was  rejecting  them,  the 

land  where  each  one  was  leaving  some  one  dear  to  him. 

73 


74  THE   OLD   CEVENOL 

They  now  feared,  as  much  as  they  had  previously  desired,  to 
leave  the  country.  The  officers  amused  themselves  at  watch- 
ing the  desperate  grief  of  the  prisoners,  and  had  the  bad 
taste  even  to  mock  their  gesticulations.  At  length  they 
compelled  the  prisoners  to  embark;  the  coast  of  France 
gradually  sank  in  the  horizon  and  finally  disappeared  from 
view. 

After  sailing  for  a  few  days,  the  captain  began  to  put 
into  execution  a  plan  that  hitherto  he  had  been  very  careful 
to  conceal.  It  was  to  sink  the  ship.  It  was  a  rotten  old 
hulk  that  had  been  selected  for  this  voyage,  and  was  already 
leaking  in  many  places.  The  sailors  placed  in  a  skiff  every- 
thing that  was  of  any  value  from  the  ship,  and  then  the 
captain  boarded  the  skiff  with  his  crew.  Two  sailors  only 
were  left  aboard  the  ship  to  execute  the  final  orders,  which 
they  did  with  the  utmost  secrecy.  They  pulled  out  a  plug 
that  bunged  a  hole  in  the  bottom  of  the  ship,  and  then, 
throwing  themselves  into  the  sea,  swam  out  to  the  skiff. 
Some  of  the  prisoners,  and  among  their  number  was 
Ambroise,  seeing  their  danger,  broke  their  chains  and  ran 
to  the  pumps.  For  a  time  they  worked  frantically,  but  with- 
out avail.  The  water  gradually  gained  in  the  hold  of  the 
ship,  and  at  length,  with  a  frightful  plunge,  she  sank  in  the 
depth  of  the  waters. 

As  an  instance  of  how  ignoble  noblemen  can  be,  E.  Benoit,  in 
his  "History  of  the  Edict  of  Nantes,"  tells  the  following: 

The  Count  of  Tesse  had  arrested  some  unfortunates,  amongst 
whom  was  a  person  of  quality  who  threw  himself  at  the  count's 
feet  and  begged  for  mercy.  His  words  were  broken  with  sobs  and 
tears.  The  count,  by  way  of  mockery  of  the  grief  of  the  miserable 
man,  kneeled  down,  joined  his  hands  as  in  supplication,  rolled  his 
eyes,  distorted  his  mouth  and  howled  in  mimic  lamentations. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

Upon  this  ship  was  a  man  from  La  Rochelle  who,  after 
a  variety  of  adventures,  had  found  himself  in  Languedoc, 
where  he  had  entered  into  the  service  of  a  Protestant  gentle- 
man, for  which  crime  he  had  been  condemned  to  the  galleys. 
This  man  was  an  excellent  seaman,  and,  seeing  that  the 
vessel  was  about  to  sink,  he  seized  an  ax  and  cut  down  the 
mizzen-mast.  He  also  managed  to  rip  up  some  of  the 
boards  of  the  deck.  In  this  task  Ambroise  helped  him. 
They  then  threw  themselves  into  the  sea  before  the  ship 
made  her  final  plunge.  By  means  of  these  timbers  three  of 
the  unfortunates  managed  to  keep  themselves  afloat.  The 
man  from  Rochelle  taught  them  how  best  to  husband  their 
strength,  and,  as  the  wind  blew  from  the  east,  they  hoped 
before  long  to  sight  the  coast  of  Spain.  For  twelve  hours 
they  were  in  the  water  without  being  able  to  perceive  that 
they  were  making  much  headway ;  in  the  meantime,  their 
strength  was  becoming  exhausted,  and  they  were  about  to 
perish  from  fatigue  and  hunger,  when,  to  their  great  joy, 
a  ship  hove  in  sight.  By  shouting  all  together  they  managed 
to  attract  the  attention  of  the  crew  of  the  passing  ship.  A 
boat  was  put  off  to  rescue  them.  Who  can  describe  their 
delight  when  they  heard  their  rescuers  speak  in  a  language 
unknown  to  them?  Each  one  thanked  God  that  they  had 
not  fallen  into  the  hands  of  their  own  countrymen.  "At 
least,"  said  Ambroise,  "we  shall  not  have  to  fear  any  royal 
proclamations."  For  at  that  moment  he  recalled  with  bitter- 
ness the  long  series  of  royal  proclamations  since  1685,  from 

the  time  he  lost  his  father  until  that  moment  when  he  found 

75 


76  THE   OLD   CEVENOL 

himself  a  castaway  in  the  waters  of  the  Mediterranean  Sea, 
half  dead  and  about  to  be  in  the  power  of  men  whose  nation- 
ality was  unknown  to  him  and  whose  language  he  did  not 
understand. 

But  the  language  of  kindness  is  universally  understood. 
The  strangers  showed  for  the  three  Frenchmen  the  greatest 
possible  kindness.  Friendship  seemed  to  beam  from  their 
faces,  and  they  betrayed  so  much  sympathy  that  the  cast- 
aways soon  realized  they  were  in  the  midst  of  friends  and 
that  their  misfortunes  would  soon  come  to  an  end.  Once 
aboard  the  ship,  they  were  put  to  bed  and  gently  fed  with 
light  but  nourishing  food.  Seeing  both  soldiers  and  sailors 
around  them,  the  poor  exiles  could  scarcely  believe  that 
these  men,  instead  of  torturing  them,  were  really  caring  for 
them  and  helping  them. 

Their  rescuers  were  Englishmen,  cruising,  in  a  ship  of 
war,  around  Gibraltar,  which  at  that  date  had  not  yet  fallen 
into  their  hands.  The  chaplain  of  the  ship  understood  a 
little  French,  and  managed  to  hold  some  conversation  with 
the  rescued  men,  who  told  him  of  their  misfortunes.  They 
had  the  sympathy,  not  only  of  the  chaplain,  but  of  the  entire 
crew.  The  Englishmen  very  freely  expressed  their  horror 
and  indignation  at  the  treatment  these  men  had  received 
from  their  Government  and  fellow-countrymen.  Having 
fulfilled  her  commission,  the  vessel  sailed  for  London, 
where  each  of  the  Frenchmen  soon  found  a  position  and 
congenial  employment.  It  is  unnecessary  here  to  give  in 
details  Ambroise's  experiences  in  England.  He  soon  learned 
the  language,  and  the  business  habits  he  had  already 
formed  helped  him  to  advance,  until  after  a  few  years  he 
was  able  to  engage  in  business  on  his  own  account  and 
acquired  a  considerable  fortune. 

It  might  seem  incredible  that  the  simple  act  of  being  a  servant 
in  a  Protestant  family  should  be  a  crime,  but  such  it  was  decreed 


THE   OLD   CEVENOL  11 

by  a  royal  decree  dated  Jan.  n,  1686.  This  declaration  recites  that 
by  the  former  decree  of  July  9,  1685,  his  Catholic  subjects  were  for- 
bidden to  engage  in  their  service  persons  of  the  so-called  reformed 
religion,  as  tending  to  hinder  the  conversion  of  Protestants.  He 
now  declares  it  dangerous  to  allow  to  the  newly  converted  the 
liberty  of  employing  in  their  service  persons  of  the  said  religion, 
and  consequently  no  one  of  the  so-called  reformed  religion  shall 
under  any  pretext  whatever  hold  the  position  of  servant  in  the 
family  of  one  of  the  same  religion;  under  penalty  of  one  thousand 
livres  for  the  employer,  the  galleys  for  the  men-servants,  and  the 
whip  for  the  women-servants. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

What,  after  all,  is  that  attachment  for  our  native  land 
to  which  we  give  the  imposing  name  of  love  of  country? 
If  we  recall  fondly  the  memory  of  places  where  we  played 
in  early  years,  is  it  not  because  we  are  not  thoroughly  satis- 
fied with  the  present,  and  is  it  not  for  the  same  reason  that 
we  are  constantly  indulging  hopes  and  making  plans  for 
the  future?  Should  we  take  such  pleasure  in  recalling  the 
pastimes,  for  the  matter  of  that,  often  dull  enough,  of  our 
native  village  or  little  town,  the  houses,  the  fields,  the  woods 
in  which  we  wandered  in  childhood's  days,  if  we  were  al- 
together satisfied  with  our  present  condition  ? 

Dissatisfaction  with  the  present,  it  is  said,  is  a  sentiment 
peculiarly  prevalent  in  the  atmosphere  of  London.  At  any 
rate,  Ambroise  fell  a  victim  to  it;  he  became  homesick  and 
suffered  from  spells  of  depression.  At  such  times  his 
thoughts  turned  fondly  to  the  scenes  of  his  childhood,  the 
little  town  where  he  was  born,  the  hills  around  it,  the  huge 
boulders  of  rock  in  the  torrent  that  rushed  close  by  the  city 
walls,  the  meadows  through  which  he  wandered  as  a  boy. 
The  desire  once  more  to  visit  his  native  land  became  irre- 
sistible, in  spite  of  the  dissuasions  of  his  friends  among  the 
multitude  of  refugees  in  London.  He  argued  thus  with  his 
friends :  he  would  tell  them  that  since  he  left  France  the 
lot  of  his  brothers  had  been  greatly  improved,  that  now  the 
torch  of  reason  was  flaming,  that  now  a  philosophical  spirit 
had  supplanted  the  old  persecuting  spirit  and  a  ray  of 
wisdom  was  enlightening  the  country,  the  French  nation  was 

learning  wisdom,  that  books  and  newspapers  were  preach- 
78 


THE   OLD   CEVENOL  79 

ing  tolerance  and  humanity,  and  that  by  all  signs  French 
society  was  becoming  more  tolerant  and  humane. 

Possessed  with  these  ideas,  Ambroise  embarked  at 
Dover,  full  of  impatience  to  see  his  beloved  native  land 
once  more.  It  is  easy  to  understand  that  he  was  not 
recognized  by  anybody  in  his  little  native  town.  His  dress 
alone  was  a  sufficient  disguise.  In  those  days  it  was  the 
fashion  in  France  to  wear  long-tail  coats  and  high  hats, 
and  the  English,  in  order  to  spite  us,  had  taken  to  short-tail 
coats  and  low  hats;  which  we  adopted  the  next  year,  in 
consequence  of  which  they  discontinued  the  fashion  for 
themselves.  Ambroise's  outfit  bespoke  the  man  of  ample 
means  without  pretence  of  grandeur.  He  conveyed  the 
impression  of  a  man  who  was  traveling  for  pleasure,  without 
troubling  himself  about  the  opinions  of  others. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

Ambroise,  born  into  the  Protestant  religion,  brought  up 
by  a  mother  who  had  sacrificed  everything  for  conscience' 
sake,  confirmed  in  his  opinions  by  the  very  means  that  had 
been  taken  to  induce  him  to  abandon  them,  was  what  might 
be  called  a  religious  man.  Hardly  had  he  given  himself  time 
to  rest  after  his  long  journey,  than  he  expressed  a  desire  to 
attend  a  public  religious  service  of  his  brethren  in  the  faith. 
He  was  led  out  into  the  country,  into  a  desert  place  of 
heather  and  reeds ;  a  few  green  oaks  scattered  here  and 
there  afforded  a  little  shade,  but  as  it  was  summer-time  and 
the  weather  extremely  hot,  as  it  often  is  in  the  south  o.: 
France,  the  shade  afforded  by  the  few  trees  was  far  from 
sufficient  to  shelter  the  entire  assembly.  About  four  thou- 
sand people  had  assembled  in  this  burning  desert ;  they 
joined  in  public  prayers,  they  sang  the  praises  of  the  God  of 
cities  and  deserts,  and  having  listened  to  a  discourse  which 
had  for  its  object  an  endeavor  to  encourage  to  a  virtuous 
life,  each  one  returned  home,  wet  with  perspiration,  but 
happy  in  the  consciousness  of  having  rendered  to  God  the 
homage  that  they  believed  to  be  his  due. 

A  number  of  persons  withdrew  to  a  house  some  distance 
from  the  place  of  assembly  to  take  a  meal.  Ambroise  was 
invited  to  join  them.  There  were  two  strangers  in  the 
company  whom  curiosity  alone  had  drawn  to  the  meeting. 
One  of  these  was  a  careful  observer  of  men  and  manners, 
and  seemed  to  be  more  interested  in  observing  the  customs 
of  men  than  the  monuments  of  antiquity.  He  said  that  it 

was  especially  in  large  gatherings  of  people  that  the  manners 
80 


THE   OLD   CEVENOL  81 

and  prevailing  ideas  of  people  could  be  learned.  He  held 
that  laws  should  be  framed  according  to  the  opinions  of 
the  majority  of  the  people,  and  that  the  object  of  legislation 
should  be  to  reform  prevailing  customs  when  they  were 
vicious,  to  tolerate  them  when  they  were  harmless,  or  to 
encourage  them  when  they  contributed  to  the  moral  good 
and  prosperity  of  the  community.  It  was  his  opinion  that 
observers  should  note  with  the  greatest  care  the  general 
spirit  of  a  people,  which  exhibits  greater  varieties  than 
either  climate  or  habits. 

His  younger  companion,  who  had  taken  a  more  super- 
ficial view  of  men  and  things,  had  not  made  a  careful 
comparison  between  the  opinions  peculiar  to  certain  people 
and  the  primitive  ideas  to  be  found  in  all  nations.  His 
remarks  betrayed  the  frivolity  of  his  mind.  He  made  fun 
of  the  monotonous  music  he  had  heard,  and  was  especially 
critical  of  the  absurd  rhymes  and  meters  of  the  Protestant 
psalmody. 

One  of  the  men  in  the  company  said:  "We  will  admit, 
sir,  that  the  verses  are  old-fashioned  and  the  music  is  drawl- 
ing, but  that  is  the  result  of  the  tyranny  of  custom.  When 
our  forefathers  adopted  the  translation  of  Marot,  they 
found  it  in  vogue  at  the  court.  Marot  was  one  of  the  first 
poets  of  his  day,  and  at  that  time  there  was  no  better  to 
choose  from.  If  we  continue  to  make  use  of  his  psalms, 
it  is  because  of  the  great  difficulty  of  changing  an  established 
custom,  and  because  very  few  persons  have  the  courage  to 
attempt  the  difficult  task.  As  for  the  music,  it  is  Goudi- 
mel's,  who  fell  in  the  massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew.  It  is 
fine  and  noble  music.  The  celebrated  Jean  Jacques,  speaking 
of  it,  says,  'The  strong  and  manly  melodies  of  Goudimel,' 
but  I  agree  with  you  that  we  sing  it  badly.  The  music  is 
difficult  and  our  circumstances  are  such  that  we  have  not 

had  the  opportunity  to  learn  music,  but  hope   some  day 

6 


82  THE   OLD   CEVENOL 

that  we  may  be  able  to  do  better,  as  we  certainly  shall  if  we 
can  but  have  peace.  You  surely  can  not  expect  us  to 
decorate  the  temple  whilst  it  is  in  ruins." 

''But  yet,  sir,"  replied  the  young  man,  "why  any  music 
at  all,  why  any  preaching,  why  any  psalms?  Why  are  you 
not  satisfied  to  worship  God  at  home  according  to  your  own 
ideas,  without  exposing  yourself  to  this  frightful  heat  which 
has  been  scorching  my  brain?  As  for  me,  I  think  that  all 
worship  is  acceptable  to  God.  I  don't  believe  he  has  ever 
Commanded  you  to  annoy  him  with  bad  music." 

"You  think  thus,"  replied  the  same  man,  "and  I  think 
otherwise.  Act  according  to  your  opinion,  but  leave  me  to 
act  according  to  mine.  I  may  be  mistaken,  it  is  true,  but 
so  may  you  be  mistaken  also.  If  you  believe  that  God  has 
never  told  you  to  do  anything,  well,  that  is  your  business ; 
but  as  for  me,  I  believe  that  God  requires  me  to  worship 
him  in  the  manner  in  which  I  do.  I  should  be  violating  my 
own  conscience  if  I  did  otherwise.  I  believe,  as  you  do, 
that  God  does  not  command  me  to  sing  his  praises  in  bad 
poetry:  but  I  believe  that  in  his  sight  verses  good  or  bad 
are  equally  acceptable  if  they  are  the  sincere  tribute  of  our 
hearts,  since  I  do  not  imagine  that  he  has  organs  of  sense 
like  ours.  I  also  believe  that,  since  he  is  the  God  of  all 
nations  and  of  all  languages,  to  him  it  is  altogether  a  matter 
of  indifference  what  language  I  use  in  worshiping  him, 
whether  Latin  or  French ;  but  I  believe  it  to  be  most  reason- 
able and  profitable  for  us  to  worship  God  in  a  language  that 
we  can  understand.  Thus,  sir,  until  I  am  convinced  that  it 
is  no  part  of  my  duty  to  worship  God  in  public,  it  is 
absolutely  necessary  for  me  to  worship  God  in  a  manner 
that  I  believe  is  acceptable  to  him." 

The  elder  traveler  then  broke  in  upon  the  conversation 
and  said  to  his  companion :  "My  friend,  I  have  traveled  over 
many  countries ;  I  have  seen  various  parts  of  Asia  and 


THE   OLD   CEVENOL  S3 

Africa;  I  have  penetrated  far  into  the  interior  of  tropical 
Africa,  and  wherever  I  have  found  a  community  with  any 
sort  of  regular  organization  to  guarantee  public  order,  I 
have  also  found  some  kind  of  religious  worship.  Wherever 
you  find  a  police  you  find  a  religion,  and  you  can  trace  the 
origin  of  these  two  institutions  to  the  same  epoch.  And  this 
has  led  me  to  suspect  that  the  light  of  religion  has  been 
given  to  man  to  teach  him  justice  or  righteousness,  and 
human  society  itself  is  designed  to  teach  us  the  benefits  of 
the  reign  of  law,  and  as  I  can  not  possibly  doubt  that  tlie 
social  instincts  of  men  are  natural  and  innate,  I  suspect  that 
it  may  also  be  an  instinct  that  has  led  mankind  in  all 
countries  and  in  all  ages  to  invoke  and  worship  a  superior 
power." 

"That  is  to  say,  sir,  that  you  still  believe  in  innate  ideas, 
notwithstanding  that  Locke  has  clearly  proved  that — " 

"I  did  not  say  that  we  have  innate  ideas,  but  I  am  quite 
prepared  to  believe  that  we  have  innate  sentiments." 

"And  what  is  the  difference  between  innate  ideas  and 
innate  sentiments?" 

"A  very  perceptible  difference.  Ideas  are  the  results  of 
sensations  that  the  organs  of  sense  transmit  to  the  brain; 
thus  it  is  clear  that  the  brain  can  have  no  idea  until  some- 
thing shall  have  been  transmitted  along  the  organs  of  sense. 
But  our  sentiments  are  our  natural  dispositions  that  we 
follow  mechanically.  Thus  maternal  love  is  an  innate  sen- 
timent. A  mother's  love  for  her  children  is  the  result  of 
neither  reflection  nor  experience.  And  since  I  call  instinct 
their  blind  following  of  conclusions  of  which  they  ignore 
the  premises,  and  since  all  do  the  same  without  knowing 
the  reason  why,  I  believe  that  we  ought  to  give  the  same 
name  to  such  of  our  sentiments  as  all  men  follow  from 
their  birth,  without  being  specially  instructed  to  do  so.  It 
seems  evident  to  me,  for  instance,  that  man  is  disposed, 


84  THE   OLD   CEVENOL 

like  the  ant,  the  beaver  or  the  bee,  to  live  in  societies,  and, 
just  as  the  bee  is  not  what  she  ought  to  be  if  she  lives  alone 
and  apart  from  other  bees,  so  man,  living  alone,  would  be 
weak,  ignorant,  imperfect  and  not  in  a  condition  to  arrive 
at  perfection.  What  has  Nature  done  for  us?  A  simple 
little  thing.  She  has  placed  upon  us  a  law  which  impels  us 
to  seek  the  society  of  our  fellow-creatures,  and  from  this 
simple  fact  behold  laws,  good  and  bad,  courts,  states  and 
empires." 

"What  are  you  trying  to  prove?" 

"This :  when  I  see  men  everywhere  agree  in  rendering 
worship,  good  or  bad,  to  a  superior  power,  I  suspect  that 
they  are  impelled  so  to  do  by  a  law  of  which  they  are 
unconscious,  and  I  can  not  but  feel  that,  if  the  Creator  has 
made  use  of  this  means,  it  is  better  and  more  direct  than  if 
he  had  left  us  to  arrive  at  this  conclusion  by  the  slower  • 
process  of  experience  and  the  vagaries  of  human  reasonings. 
However,  I  may  possibly  be  mistaken — as  I  have  often  been. 
I  have  unfortunately  several  times  treated  with  contempt 
and  disregard  opinions  which  I  have  ultimately  adopted,  so 
that  now,  when  I  oppose  the  opinions  of  others,  I  desire 
to  do  so  with  that  respect  which  is  due  to  men  who  may 
be  better  able  to  judge  the  matter  than  I." 

"You  believe,  then,  that  the  Creator  has  inspired  us  to 
recite  certain  forms  of  prayer,  to  bend  the  knees,  to  turn 
towards  the  east,  to  wear  vestments  of  fine  white  linen 
and  to  sing  vespers  and  matins  ?" 

"No,  I  spoke  simply  of  the  sentiment  which  the  Creator 
may  have  implanted  in  the  heart  of  man,  and  not  of  the 
accessories  that  man  has  added.  God  simply  says  to  all, 
'Worship  me  in  spirit  and  in  truth.'  Men's  imagination  and 
love  of  display  have  done  the  rest.  If  there  is  a  God,  and 
if  he  can  be  known  by  us,  we  can  not  but  admire  him.  To 
admire  him  is  to  adore,  to  worship  him.  But  whether  we 


THE   OLD   CEVENOL  85 

worship  him  in  a  white  surplice  or  in  a  black  robe,  whether 
we  sing  his  praises  in  unison  or  in  four  parts,  is  a  matter  for 
each  one  to  settle  according  to  his  own  conscience,  and  if 
I  were  a  king  I  would  not  wish  to  persecute  anybody  for 
singing  in  any  particular  fashion." 

"It  seems,  then,  according  to  your  reasoning,  that  you 
think  that  in  reality  the  exterior  form  of  worship  is  a 
matter  of  but  little  consequence.  In  that  case,  where  is 
the  harm  of  the  king  compelling  others  to  adopt  the  form 
of  worship  that  he  prefers?" 

"Where  is  the  harm?  There  is  the  greatest  possible 
harm.  In  the  first  place,  he  can  not  do  it.  The  attempt  to 
do  it  has  already  cost  the  country  five  civil  wars  and  three 
million  lives.  That  is  a  rather  costly  experiment.  You  can 
see  by  the  zeal  of  these  gentlemen  how  tenaciously  they  hold 
to  their  opinions.  Even  supposing  their  religion  to  be 
false,  they  believe  it  to  be  true;  which  for  them  is  exactly 
the  same  thing.  I  doubt  not  that  they  will  continue  to  feel 
that  they  are  under  obligation  to  follow  the  religion  they 
believe  in  until  they  can  find  a  better.  I  wish  with  all  my 
heart  that  the  ideas  of  men  might  become  more  and  more 
noble  and  perfect;  for  that  end  I  would  be  ready  to  shed 
the  last  drop  of  my  blood;  but  I  would  not  shed  one  drop 
of  their  blood  to  force  them  to  change  their  opinions." 

At  hearing  these  noble  sentiments  from  the  stranger,  a 
murmur  of  applause  went  around  the  company.  These 
hearts,  cowed  and  humiliated  by  long  and  bitter  sufferings, 
seemed  to  brighten  up  under  words  of  sympathy,  like 
flowers  which,  beaten  down  by  a  storm,  begin  to  raise  their 
heads  when  the  sun  shines  out  again. 

"Ah!  gentlemen,"  said  one  of  the  company,  "you  say 
well,  we  may  be  deceived;  it  seems  to  us  that  the  simple 
worship  that  we  render  to  God  is  that  which  seems  most 
natural.  We  reject  other  forms  only  because  they  seem  to 


86  THE   OLD   CEVENOL 

us  to  be  unnatural  and  unreasonable  and  that  neither  God 
nor  nature  sanctions  them.  At  any  rate,  our  sincerity  is 
beyond  suspicion;  the  very  perils  to  which  we  expose  our- 
selves are  a  proof  of  our  good  faith.  But  if  it  is  a  matter  of 
no  consequence  what  kind  of  worship  we  render  unto  God, 
as  this  gentleman  seems  to  think,  it  surely  is  not  worth  while 
that  others  should  fly  at  our  throats  because  we  have  a 
different  opinion." 

Sympathy  for  the  sufferings  of  others  is  a  sentiment  to 
be  found  deep  down  in  almost  every  heart;  personal  in- 
terest and  prejudice  may  often  stifle  it,  but  there  come 
moments  when  it  will  develop,  when  it  will  burst  forth  with 
greater  force  for  having  been  repressed.  This  was  the  case 
with  the  younger  traveler.  He  had  at  first  regarded  the 
Protestants  with  that  contempt  that  we  too  often  feel  to- 
wards the  downtrodden,  before  we  take  the  trouble  to  en- 
quire whether  they  are  right  or  wrong.  The  remarks  of  his 
companion  had  been  for  him  like  a  shaft  of  light.  "You 
are  right,"  said  he.  "If  worship  is  an  eternal  law  dictated 
by  the  Supreme  Being,  these  people,  without  knowing  it, 
are  following  a  law  hidden  deeply  in  their  nature ;  if  they 
have  added  some  indifferent  practices,  it  can  not  be  a  crime ; 
at  least,  they  are  no  more  guilty  than  other  people  who  do 
similar  things.  Their  worship  is  the  most  simple  in  exist- 
ence, since  they  have  added  less  than  others  to  the  universal 
instinct."  These  new-born  convictions  were  clearly  depicted 
upon  the  frank  and  open  countenance  of  the  young  man. 

"Do  not  suppose,  gentlemen,"  said  he  to  the  company, 
"that  I  intended  any  insult  in  ridiculing  the  opinions  that 
have  drawn  down  upon  you  so  much  suffering.  The  un- 
fortunate, whoever  they  may  be,  always  have  a  claim  upon 
my  respect,  and  I  know  only  too  well  that,  in  order  to  be 
persecuted,  it  is  often  only  necessary  to  be  right.  I  believe 
I  might  even  go  so  far  as  to  say  that  of  two  parties,  one  of 


THE   OLD   CEVENOL  87 

which  persecutes  the  other,  it  is  the  persecutor  who  is  in  the 
wrong.  But  will  you  allow  me,  as  a  friend  of  the  unfor- 
tunate, to  make  some  observations?  If  you  have  felt  the 
force  of  my  friend's  remarks,  you  will  doubtless  have  felt 
that  the  essential  thing  in  worship  is  the  homage  paid  to 
God,  and  the  non-essential  or  indifferent  part  is  the  external 
form  of  that  worship.  Why,  then,  do  you  not  limit  your- 
selves to  heart  worship,  or,  at  most,  to  domestic  worship, 
which  is  not  now  forbidden?  You  would  thus  render  to 
God  the  homage  you  owe  to  him,  and  you  would  not  expose 
yourselves  to  the  persecutions  of  men." 

"Ah,  sir,"  then  remarked  the  master  of  the  house,  "don't 
you  suppose  that  we  would  do  that  if  we  held  your  opinions? 
But  we  have  not  your  opinions.  We  believe  that  God  wishes 
us  to  worship  him  in  the  manner  we  do,  and  we  could  not 
observe  any  other  kind  of  worship.  We  are  under  obli- 
gation, as  your  friend  has  admitted,  to  obey  our  own  con- 
science, because  we  believe  we  are  in  the  right." 

"My  dear  friend,"  then  said  the  elder  of  the  travelers, 
"do  not  push  my  principles  further  than  I  am  prepared  to 
follow  them ;  and  especially  do  not  draw  conclusions  from 
them  that  are  not  warranted  by  the  premises.  Observe,  it 
is  not  domestic  worship  that  we  see  established  all  over  the 
earth,  but  public  worship.  All  people  have  had  temples  or 
religious  rendezvous  in  which  worship  has  taken  a  certain 
form.  The  evil  with  these  people  is  not  that  their  worship 
has  taken  a  certain  form,  but  that  they  have  hated  those 
who,  without  knowing  or  consulting  them,  have  adopted 
another.  I  should  regard  it  a  very  great  misfortune  for 
humanity  if  all  the  temples  were  closed,  and  the  opinion 
prevailed  that  it  was  sufficient  to  worship  God  in  private." 

"You  surprise  me.  Why,  should  we  not  then  at  length 
see  upon  this  earth  re-established  that  peace  that  theologians 
have  disturbed  ?  There  would  be  no  more  religious  quarrels,. 


88  THE   OLD   CEVENOL 

no  more  holy  wars  in  which  men  robed  in  white  fight  against 
men  robed  in  black,  no  more  consecrated  banners  under 
which  to  rally  the  persecutors,  no  more  pretexts  to  be  per- 
secuted, and,  as  a  consequence,  no  more  of  those  evils  that 
have  devastated  Europe  for  centuries." 

"It  is  true  we  should  not  have  these  evils,  but  we  should 
have  others,  for  such  is  the  natural  weakness  of  humanity 
that  there  are  drawbacks  to  all  its  institutions  and  to  all  its 
various  modes  of  life.  If  there  were  no  more  public  speak- 
ing to  men  on  religious  themes,  if  they  were  never  reminded 
of  the  punishments  to  come  to  evil-doers  and  of  the  rewards 
of  well-doing,  it  is  evident  that  soon  there  would  be  no 
religion,  and  you  see  that  brings  us  to  the  great  question 
whether,  after  all,  religion  is  not  the  great  misfortune  of 
mankind,  which  I  am  very  far  from  admitting.  This  is  a 
discussion  that  befits  an  assembly  of  philosophers,  but  what 
we  have  to  do  with  now  refers  to  these  good,  simple  people 
whom  we  have  come  into  the  desert  to  observe.  The  ques- 
tion is,  ought  the  privilege  of  public  worship  to  be  taken 
away  from  these  Protestants,  or,  in  other  words,  ought 
their  religion  to  be  taken  away,  for  that  is  the  same  thing? 
Is  it  wise  to  establish  a  people  without  a  religion  in  the 
midst  of  a  kingdom  where  a  religion  already  exists?  Is  it 
prudent,  or  even  possible,  to  deprive  this  people  of  a  religion 
which  they  have  once  known  or  followed  ? — whether  such  an 
end  could  be  brought  about  by  any  arguments  or  by  any 
laws — and  what  would  be  the  consequences  to  the  state  of 
this  sudden  and  ill-contrived  privation?" 

"Sir,"  said  to  him  one  of  the  company,  "the  experiment 
has  already  been  tried  here  in  this  very  country  where  you 
are  at  the  present  moment.  The  people  who  lived  here 
found  themselves  deprived  of  their  opportunities  for  wor- 
ship when  their  ministers  had  been  driven  away.  The 
people  were  so  much  opposed  to  the  dominant  religion  that 


THE   OLD    CEVENOL  89 

unnumbered  acts  of  violence  had  not  availed  to  induce  them 
to  embrace  it.  They  fonnd  themselves  without  instruction, 
without  religious  assemblies,  and  without  public  prayers. 
Well,  what  happened?  Cherishing  constantly  fond  mem- 
ories of  their  temples,  that  were  become  more  dear  to  them 
by  privation,  they  met  in  secret ;  any  one  who  could  or  would 
performed  the  office  of  minister,  and  women  and  even  chil- 
dren took  part  in  the  services.  These  ignorant  ministrants 
supplied  the  deficiency  of  their  knowledge  by  the  most  ab- 
surd vagaries ;  soon  there  appeared  prophets  and  prophet- 
esses ;  the  people,  hungering  for  spiritual  food  of  some  kind, 
no  matter  what,  began  to  have  visions  and  yielded  them- 
selves up  to  the  most  ridiculous  fanaticism,  which  was 
religious  in  name  only.  When,  at  length,  the  old  persecu- 
tions revived,  which  had  previously  scourged  this  part  of 
the  country,  the  very  children  resisted  and  suffered  without 
complaint  the  persecutor's  rage,  even  as  had  their  fathers 
before  them ;  some  fanatics  took  to  arms,  and  this,  together 
with  the  violence  of  the  priests,  was  one  of  the  causes  of  the 
war  of  the  Camisards.  Fanaticism  did  not  cease  until  reg- 
ular worship  was  re-established  according  to  the  rites  of 
the  other  Protestants  of  Europe." 

"That,"  said  the  traveler,  "is  just  what  I  should  have 
predicted.  When  you  had  ministers,  they  exhorted  you  to 
patience  and  encouraged  you  to  suffer  martyrdom ;  they 
represented  to  you  persecutors  as  the  instruments  of  Provi- 
dence, but  since  then  you  have  recognized  them  as  your 
enemies  and  have  attempted  to  resist  them  by  force." 

"Sir,  we  detest  their  conduct  even  more  than  the  vio- 
lence that  gave  occasion  to  it,  and  now  we  regard  flight  from 
our  country  as  the  only  proper  reply  to  those  who  have 
caused  us  to  hate  it." 

"However,  gentlemen,"  persisted  the  young  man,  "you 
can  not  deny  that  the  massing  of  multitudes  such  as  yours, 


90  THE   OLD   CEVENOL 

has  something  of  a  criminal  character.  If  the  Catholics  of 
England  were  to  assemble  contrary  to  law,  the  English 
Government  would  repress  them,  and  it  would  do  well." 

"The  comparison  is  not  just,"  replied  Ambroise.  "I  am 
from  England,  sir.  The  Catholics,  truly,  are  not  in  a 
brilliant  condition  there,  but  they  are  tolerated;  they  have 
their  priests,  their  houses  of  prayer,  their  meetings.  They 
are  not  such  fools  as  to  go  out  into  the  deserts  to  seek  what 
without  hindrance,  they  have  in  the  towns;  but  if  they 
assembled  in  crowds  in  the  fields,  it  is  clear  that  it  would  not 
be  in  order  to  gain  a  liberty  that  they  already  have  in  the 
towns.  Their  meetings  would  be  suspicious  and  would  de- 
serve to  be  put  down.  I  have,  however,  seen  Methodists 
assemble  in  the  fields  to  worship  after  their  own  fashion, 
and  I  can  assure  you  that  the  Government  did  not  trouble 
itself  about  them,  and  it  did  well.  If  the  Government  had 
persecuted  them,  it  would  have  doubled  their  number.  Our 
assemblies  are  not  the  massing  together  of  troops ;  and  what 
is  a  proof  that  they  are  not  seditious  is  the  fact  that  we 
admit  our  wives  and  children  and  strangers  into  our 
meetings.  The  Government's  suspicions  are  groundless, 
since  we  desire  and  pray  for  its  prosperity.  Let  the  Govern- 
ment tolerate  us;  let  it  authorize  us;  let  the  Christians  of 
the  eighteenth  century  grant  to  us  what  the  Christians  of 
the  second  century  asked  of  the  Roman  emperors ;  and  you 
will  find  that  our  assemblies  will  be  the  rendezvous  of  simple 
and  pious  people  who  will  pray  in  French  for  their  country 
and  their  king." 

It  was  getting  late ;  the  travelers  had  still  some  distance 
to  go  before  nightfall,  and  took  their  leave.  The  master  of 
the  house  desired  to  show  them  some  things  about  the 
neighborhood.  They  saw  a  newly  built  farmhouse,  and  near 
by  some  broken  walls  blackened  by  fire.  He  told  them  that 
this  house  had  been  demolished  three  or  four  times  since 


THE   OLD   CEVENOL  91 

the  time  of  M.  de  Rohan,  and  that  it  had  finally  been  burned 
by  the  royal  troops  during  the  Camisard  war.  He  pointed 
out,  in  the  distance,  two  or  three  villages  that  had  been 
burned  also.  "Some  of  these  lands,"  said  he,  "are  still  lying 
waste  since  the  revocation  of  the  Edict  of  Nantes.  From 
fear  of  the  penal  laws,  we  hardly  dare  to  .buy  land,  lest  we 
should  be  compelled  to  abandon  them.  However,  we  have 
risked  replanting  our  mulberry-trees,  which  have  brought  us 
in  considerable  gains.  We  are  already  furnishing  a  number 
of  factories  with  raw  silk.  It  is  we  who  pay  three-fourths 
of  the  taxes  of  these  cantons;  the  taxes  on  our  particular 
industry  have  been  doubled  in  the  last  ten  years.  Ah!  how 
much  good  would  result  from  a  thoroughly  reliable  policy 
of  toleration,  a  toleration  that  would  not  be  liable  to  be 
withdrawn  by  the  caprices  of  a  Government  that  alternately 
adopts  and  rejects  such  measures." 

"Believe  me,"  said  the  stranger,  deeply  moved,  "that  I 
shall  lose  no  opportunity  of  speaking  about  you  and  making 
known  your  real  character  and  purposes.  All  these  evils 
hardly  affect  us  when  we  hear  about  them  at  a  distance, 
but  what  I  have  seen  to-day  I  shall  never  forget." 

The  Protestants  were  consoled;  the  travelers  were 
touched  with  the  sufferings  of  which  they  had  seen  the 
evidences ;  they  separated  with  many  expressions  of  mutual 
respect  and  affection.  Pity  had  arisen  in  the  hearts  of  the 
visitors  at  the  sight  of  suffering  and  the  pathetic  gratitude 
of  the  unfortunate  people  for  those  who  had  shown  some 
interest  in  their  lot. 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

Ambroise  at  length  settled  down  and  began  to  feel 
himself  safe  from  the  shafts  of  misfortune.  He  had 
married  and  was  happy  in  the  enjoyment  of  the  most  perfect 
friendship  he  had  ever  known.  One  who  has  passed 
through  many  and  severe  troubles  is  qualified  to  appreciate 
happiness  when  it  at  length  smiles  upon  him.  But  his 
sorrows  were  not  yet  ended:  his  wife  was  taken  from  him 
soon  after  he  became  a  father.  His  strong  and  sensitive 
soul  was  plunged  into  the  depths  of  despair.  Nothing 
seemed  to  dissipate  the  cloud  of  gloom  that  oppressed  his 
spirit.  He  was  a  prey  to  melancholy,  and  he  would  have 
become  a  misanthrope,  disgusted  with  life,  with  men  and 
society,  had  it  not  been  for  that  paternal  tenderness  that 
led  him  constantly  to  the  cradle  where  lay  the  memorial  of 
his  sweetest  friendship  and  his  deepest  sorrow. 

For  a  long  time  Ambroise  denied  himself  to  all  visitors ; 
he  sought  in  religion  the  solace  of  his  woe.  Piety  lent  an 
element  of  tenderness  to  the  strength  of  his  character,  and 
when,  after  long  struggles,  the  consolations  of  religion  pre- 
vailed, his  heart  was  softened  and  tears  came  to  his  relief. 
He  went  to  the  cradle  where  lay  his  infant  son,  and  found 
a  peculiar  happiness  in  tracing  in  the  face  of  the  child  the 
features  of  the  beloved  mother,  and  he  decided  that  he 
would  conquer  his  sorrow  in  order  to  devote  himself  to  the 
bringing  up  of  the  innocent  child  whose  natural  protector 
he  was. 

One  day,  as  with  tearful  eyes  he  sat  nursing  the  child, 

a  notary  entered  his  doorway,  and,  after  the  usual  civilities, 
92 


THE  OLD  CEVENOL  93 

handed  him  a  legal  document  that  Ambroise  had  great  dif- 
ficulty in  reading.  It  was  a  summons  calling  upon  him  to 
renounce  all  rights  and  claims  to  the  property  and  rights  of 
the  late  Miss  Sophie  Robinel,  seeing  that  she  had  never 
been  his  legitimate  wife,  etc.  The  horrible  paper  fell  from 
his  hands.  The  summons  had  been  issued  in  the  name  of 
Sieur  and  Dame  Robinel,  father  and  mother  of  the  deceased, 
who  were  under  legal  obligation  to  pay  a  dowry  which  they 
had  not  paid  and  which  was  now  overdue.  Although  Am- 
broise was  generous  and  had  not  dreamed  of  requiring  the 
payment  of  his  wife's  dowry,  he  now  felt  that  it  was  his 
son's  property  more  than  his  own,  and  he  did  not  feel  that 
he  should  renounce  that  which  was  naturally  his  son's.  The 
horrible  character  of  the  proceeding  angered  him.  "For 
virtue's  sake,"  said  he,  "one  can  make  sacrifices ;  but  shame- 
ful and  vicious  proceedings  like  this  should  be  dealt  with 
without  flinching.  God  forbid  that  I  should  yield  on  a 
point  like  this,  through  weakness.  I  despise  the  riches,  but 
I  feel  I  ought  not  to  dispose  of  them  without  consulting  the 
just  rights  of  my  son." 

It  is  necessary  to  explain  to  the  reader  that  Ambroise 
had  not  been  married  in  the  church  catholique,  apostolique 
et  romaine,  which  was  also  the  case  with  four  or  five  hun- 
dred thousand  others  who  have  become  the  parents  of  about 
two  millions  of  children,  all  of  whom,  by  the  glorious  laws 
of  our  land,  are  declared  to  be  illegitimate,  from  a  legal 
standpoint.  With  such  laws  as  ours  there  can  be  no  legal 
marriage  except  according  to  the  canons  of  the  Council  of 
Trent.  No  marriage  is  valid  except  those  at  which  the  sac- 
rament has  been  administered  by  a  Romish  priest,  and  such 
sacrament  can  be  administered  only  to  Roman  Catholics. 
It  follows,  as  a  matter  of  consequence,  that  Roman  Cath- 
olics are  the  only  people  who  can  legally  marry.  Ambroise, 
who  did  not  view  things  quite  in  the  same  light,  maintained 


94  THE   OLD   CEVENOL 

that  the  fact  of  the  consent  of  the  parents  and  of  the  parties 
constitute  marriage,  that  the  marriage  contract  reveals  the 
conditions,  that  living  together  as  man  and  wife  is  the  public 
acknowledgment  of  the  marriage,  and  the  children  that 
are  born  of  the  union  are  so  many  pledges  of  the  validity  of 
the  marriage,  that  they  are  legitimate  because  there  has 
been  a  real  contract  and  all  the  conditions  have  been  com- 
plied with,  and  the  part  that  the  priest  takes  in  the  marriage 
is  simply  to  bless  it  in  the  presence  of  God  and  in  the 
presence  of  witnesses.  That  is  but  common  sense,  as  Am- 
broise  maintained.  But  the  lawyer  laughed  disdainfully  at 
all  these  fine  reasons  deduced  from  natural  right  and  from 
the  spirit  of  the  laws  of  all  nations. 

"It  is  not  a  question  of  common  sense,"  said  the  lawyer. 
"You  must  remember  that  we  are  in  France,  and  you  will 
be  judged  according  to  French  law.  Now,  French  law 
requires  you  to  be  married  by  the  Church  of  Rome,  under 
penalty  of  nullification,  and  this  is  what  you  have  not  done." 

"But  how  could  I  have  done  it,"  asked  Ambroise,  "if 
the  priest  can  not  administer  the  sacrament  to  heretics? 
The  priest  would  not  have  married  me." 

"You  had  simply  to  embrace  our  religion." 

"But  that  would  have  been  impossible,  since  I  do  not 
believe  in  it.  You  certainly  do  not  mean  to  say  that  I  should 
have  committed  an  act  of  hypocrisy  and  profanation?" 

"No,  for  I  should  have  despised  you." 

"What  should  I  have  done,  then?" 

"You  should  not  have  married." 

"Ah,  well,  I  suppose  that  that  might  have  been  possible ; 
but  then,  do  you  maintain  that  twelve  hundred  thousand 
young  men  and  twelve  hundred  thousand  maidens  should 
remain  single?  Shame  on  it,  sir,  you  have  there  a  perver- 
sion of  morality,  and  it  seems  to  me  that  your  laws  are 
framed  to  encourage  immorality." 


THE    OLD    CEVENOL  95 

"That  is  no  business  of  mine.  There  are  cleverer  men 
than  I  who  seem  to  think  that  it  is  all  right.  In  any  case, 
it  is  no  business  of  mine  to  defend  our  laws  nor  to  reform 
them ;  it  is  simply  my  business  to  inform  you  that  your 
marriage  is  not  legal  and  that  it  will  be  nullified;  your  son 
will  be  declared  illegitimate;  he  will  have  no  title  to  inherit 
either  his  mother's  property  or  yours." 

"Well,  sir,  I  will  take  the  risk.  At  the  worst  it  is  only 
money  I  shall  lose,  for  my  honor  is  beyond  the  reach  of  the 
law ;  and  as  regards  the  honor  and  fortune  of  my  son,  I  am 
well  able  to  take  care  of  them." 

So  Ambroise  decided  to  defend  the  memory  of  his 
virtuous  wife  and  the  status  of  his  son.  He  fortified  his 
case  with  excellent  opinions  of  distinguished  lawyers,  such 
as  M.  Elie  de  Beaumont;  MM.  Mariette  and  L'Oiseau; 
MM.  Target  and  Gerbier;  MM.  Pascalis  and  Pazery,  of 
Aix;  of  MM.  Lacroix  and  Jamme,  of  Toulouse.  He  ob- 
tained an  opinion  of  M.  Servan,  of  Grenoble,  and  of  the 
principal  legal  authorities  in  the  kingdom.  All  gave  it  as 
their  opinion  that,  as  the  Protestants  were,  by  law,  obliged 
to  remain  in  the  kingdom  where  they  were  permitted  to 
enjoy  the  conditions  of  civil  life,  and  not  being  able,  as 
Protestants,  to  demand  or  obtain  nuptial  benediction  of  the 
priest,  their  only  course,  in  order  to  marry,  was  to  follow 
the  usages  of  primitive  society ;  that  is  to  say,  that  the  con- 
sent of  the  parents  and  of  the  parties  and  the  living  together 
as  man  and  wife  constituted  for  them  a  marriage,  since  the 
law  could  not  mean  that  they  should  not  marry. 

Not  satisfied  with  these  opinions,  Ambroise  obtained 
opinions  from  various  German  universities,  and  especially 
from  those  schools  where  the  study  of  natural  law  was  a 
specialty,  since  natural  law  is  the  basis  of  all  laws,  though 
it  must  be  admitted  that  many  laws  are  considerably  off  the 
base.  These  German  schools  gave  opinions  even  more 


96  THE    OLD    CEVENOL 

favorable,  since,  as  Ambroise  pointed  out,  they  had  no 
prejudices  to  influence  their  judgment.  He  wrote  to  Hun- 
gary, in  which  country  there  are  eighteen  hundred  thousand 
Protestants,  to  ask  if  all  these  were  illegitimate.  The  reply 
he  received  said,  "No,"  and  added  sarcastically  that  in 
Hungary  people  were  not  clever  enough  to  understand  such 
subtle  distinctions.  Finally  he  wrote  to  Rome,  whence 
come  opinions  that  are  supposed  to  regulate  the  universe; 
he  asked  what  they  thought  there,  or  rather  what  they  did 
about  marriage,  for  there  is  no  necessary  connection  between 
opinions  and  conduct.  An  old  doctor  of  the  Propaganda 
replied  that  while,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  they  taught  that  the 
marriage  consisted  in  the  sacrament,  yet  at  bottom  he 
thought  that  a  marriage  was  valid,  even  though  deprived  of 
sacramental  grace,  when  it  is  contracted  by  those  to  whom 
the  sacrament  is  refused ;  they  recognize  this  in  the  case  of 
Jews,  who  are  very  useful  in  bringing  money  and  business 
into  the  country  that  has  been  stripped  bare  of  its  population 
and  industries ;  that  formerly  they  had  instructed  the  Jesuits 
to  compel  the  Protestants  of  France  to  marry  before  a 
priest,  but  that  they  had  been  led  to  change  their  policy  in 
this  respect  when  they  saw  that  the  only  result  was  to 
populate  and  strengthen  the  heretical  countries. 

Furnished  with  this  volume  of  authorities,  and  sustained 
by  what  he  called  the  righteousness  of  his  cause,  Ambroise 
employed  an  eminent  lawyer  to  conduct  his  defense.  This 
man  based  a  very  eloquent  argument  on  reason  and  senti- 
ment. He  presented  with  reason  and  force  the  arguments 
of  the  most  celebrated  legal  authorities.  His  speech  was 
frequently  interrupted  by  applause  from  the  large  company 
that  had  assembled  to  hear  the  proceedings.  Justice  and 
Humanity,  speaking  to  all  hearts,  evoked  many  stifled  sobs, 
and  some  were  melted  to  tears  as  they  listened  to  the  argu- 
ments. But  the  attorney  on  the  other  side  pompously  cited 


THE   OLD   CEVENOL  97 

the  text  of  the  law ;  he  constantly  brought  back  his  eloquent 
adversary  to  the  letter  of  the  law.  He  gravely  maintained 
that  to-day  there  were  no  Protestants  in  France,  because 
that  in  1715  the  law  declared  there  were  none.  He  went 
even  so  far  as  to  state  that  it  would  be  ruinous  to  the  state  if 
it  changed  the  status  of  the  two  million  illegitimate  children 
in  the  country.  He  adroitly  insinuated  that  this  happy  con- 
fusion gave  rise  to  a  great  number  of  lawsuits  which  kept 
the  courts  busy.  He  convinced  nobody,  but  Ambroise  lost 
his  cause.  It  was  said  that  whilst  the  decision  of  the  court 
was  being  pronounced  the  judges  were  visibly  embarrassed, 
and  sought  to  conceal  the  blush  of  shame  with  their  hand- 
kerchiefs, and  it  was  the  popular  belief  that  the  judges 
looked  more  guilty  than  the  defendant.  The  iniquitous 
law  triumphed,  the  memory  of  Ambroise's  wife  was  tar- 
nished, and  her  son  declared  illegitimate  and  disqualified 
to  succeed  to  his  mother's  inheritance.  One  can  well  un- 
derstand Ambroise's  indignation.  "Let  us  return,"  said 
he,  "let  us  return  to  that  hospitable  land  where  the  rights 
of  humanity  are  respected  and  guarded.  And  thou,  un- 
happy child,  who  dost  experience  misfortune  before  know- 
ing it,  come  seek  a  gentler  land  where  thou  wilt  be  per- 
mitted to  enjoy  the  inheritance  that  my  love  has  provided 
for  thee." 

That  same  evening  Ambroise  dined  with  two  or  three 
of  his  judges.  They  candidly  admitted  that  the  laws  which 
condemned  him  did  not  agree  with  the  eternal  laws  of 
nature,  and  that  they  were  ashamed  to  be  the  administrators 
of  such  laws.  "But,  what  can  we  do?"  they  said.  "We 
are  only  the  executors  and  not  the  interpreters  of  the  law." 

"What  I  would  recommend  you  to  do,"  replied  Am- 
broise, "is  to  inform  the  king,  who  has  been  deceived,  of 
the  abominable  nature  of  the  laws  that,  in  his  name,  you 

have  to  administer.     Let  him  hear  from  all  parts  of  his 

7 


98  THE   OLD   CEVENOL 

kingdom  the  protesting  voices  of  the  magistrates  who  rep- 
resent him,  against  the  laws  that  oppress  his  subjects  and 
render  them  unhappy.  The  opinions  of  the  magistrature 
would  be  beyond  suspicion,  and  he,  doubtless,  would  re- 
store to  the  unfortunates  the  rights  of  humanity,  and  it 
would  be  to  his  glory  to  have  contributed  to  the  happiness 
and  welfare  of  his  people."  The  historian  may  here  pause 
to  mention  that  not  until  fifty  years  later  were  the  marriage 
laws  adjusted  so  as  to  do  justice  to  the  Protestant  portion 
of  the  population. 

"I  see,  gentlemen,"  proceeded  Ambroise,  "that  I  have 
been  very  much  deceived  about  my  country,  in  judging  it 
by  the  literature  that  came  to  me  across  the  Channel. 
When  I  read  in  London  so  many  speeches  and  articles 
about  philosophy  and  humanity,  I  expected  to  find  these 
grand  theories  in  practice,  but  I  still  find  the  Protestants 
the  victims  of  pitiless  laws." 

"What  have  you  to  grumble  about?"  interrupted,  in 
an  excited  manner,  an  old  man  who  sat  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  table.  "We  are  constantly  hearing  about  the 
severity  of  the  penal  laws;  but  you  know  very  well  that 
they  are  not  carried  out.  The  judges  are  too  indulgent 
and  allow  them  to  remain  as  dead  letters.  It  is  true  that 
every  now  and  then  we  see  a  preacher  hanged  or  the  corpse 
of  a  relapsed  convert  drawn  through  the  mud ;  but  formerly 
these  were  every-day  sights.  So,  you  see,  sir,  your  com- 
plaints are  unfounded  and  frivolous." 

"What  business  have  you  with  laws  that  are  no  longer 
put  in  execution?"  asked  Ambroise. 

"We  retain  them  as  worthy  monuments  in  our  legis- 
lative archives  and  as  models  for  future  legislators,  as 
being  the  best  examples  that  they  could  follow.  Moreover, 
we  keep  them  on  the  statute-books  so  that  we  may  put 
them  into  force  when  we  have  a  mind  to.  If,  unfortunately, 


THE   OLD   CEVENOL  99 

they  should  be  revoked,  the  Protestants  would  indulge  more 
than  ever  in  the  hope  of  a  tranquility  which  they  do  not 
deserve,  and  which  it  would  be  absurd  to  concede  to  them ; 
the  exiles  would  return;  they  would  go  into  business  and 
into  agriculture  which  are  sufficiently  flourishing  without 
them;  and  our  posterity  would  have  good  reason  to  blame 
us  for  making  a  big  mistake.  The  Protestants  are  already 
as  happy  as  they  have  any  right  to  be,  and,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  liberty  of  conscience,  the  liberty  to  own  property, 
safety  of  their  persons,  the  free  possession  of  their  children, 
the  choice  of  trades  and  professions,  they  are  treated  almost 
the  same  as  the  rest  of  the  king's  subjects." 

The  judges  were  silent  because  they  saw  very  well  that 
the  rest  of  the  company  were  inclined  to  take  the  view  of 
the  last  speaker.  All  seemed  to  agree  that  the  age  of 
Louis  XIV.,  with  its  strong-handed  policy,  was  the  model 
to  be  guided  by.  Talking  of  one  thing  and  another,  they 
at  length  deplored  that  there  was  no  longer  a  Louvois  or 
a  Pere-la-Chaise  to  pursue,  with  regard  to  the  Protestants, 
a  policy  that  reflected  eternal  honor  on  the  memory  of  those 
sagacious  statesmen.  Ambroise  withdrew  from  the  com- 
pany, not  caring  to  hear  any  more  of  this  kind  of  talk; 
but  the  company  continued  to  discuss  various  projects  for 
restoring  the  glorious  conditions  of  the  past.  The  old 
man,  excited  with  wine,  proposed  all  sorts  of  ingenious 
methods  for  bringing  back  the  miscreants  into  the  bosom 
of  the  church.  He  was  enthusiastic  about  massacres.  He 
exulted  in  the  massacres  that  had  taken  place  in  Ireland, 
in  Bohemia,  in  Piedmont  and  in  Calabria.  For  more  than 
a  hundred  years  stakes  had  flamed,  gallows  had  groaned 
with  the  weight  of  heretics;  there  had  been  wheels  and 
tortures  and  galleys.  The  entire  table  became  excited.  All 
agreed  that  the  present  times  were  degenerate;  that  the 
world  was  growing  careless  of  religion.  They  spoke  in 


100  THE   OLD    CEVENOL 

terms  of  what  appeared  to  be  deserved  contempt  of  a 
policy  of  peaceable  toleration  of  innocent  opinions  which 
could  not  anyway  be  suppressed.  But,  whilst  praising  per- 
secution, they  acknowledged  that  there  was  one  difficulty. 
That,  in  doing  so,  they  felt  at  the  same  time  that  they 
would  have  to  approve  the  conduct  of  the  Neros,  the  De- 
ciuses,  the  Julians.  But  the  old  man  speedily  relieved  them 
of  that  difficulty  by  alleging  that  the  Romans  had  no  right 
to  persecute,  because  they  were  in  error ;  but  that  the 
French  had  a  right  to  persecute,  because  they  were  in  the 
right.  Everybody  acknowledged  the  force  of  this  unan- 
swerable argument,  and,  having  settled  the  problem  to  their 
entire  satisfaction,  the  convives  went  home. 

In  the  morning  Ambroise  was  much  surprised  at  re- 
ceiving a  visit  from  one  of  the  convives  of  the  previous 
evening.  This  man  came  to  tell  Ambroise  that  the  old 
man  who  had  spoken  so  viciously  the  previous  evening 
had,  on  leaving  the  table,  hired  a  post-chaise  and  proceeded 
immediately  to  Montpellier,  and  that  he  had  good  reason 
to  suspect  that  this  incensed  partisan  had  gone  there  in 
order  to  procure  a  lettre  de  cachet  against  him.  The 
Englishman,  for  Ambroise  began  to  feel  that  he  was  more 
of  an  Englishman  than  ever,  enquired  what  a  lettre  de 
cachet  was.  He  was  informed  that  it  was  an  official  order 
for  his  arrest  and  imprisonment  without  trial,  or  possibly 
without  even  knowing  what  he  was  charged  with.  On 
receiving  this  unwelcome  intelligence,  Ambroise  started  out 
the  next  day  for  England,  taking  his  son  with  him. 

Once  more  in  London,  he  was  visited  by  all  his  friends. 
He  shed  tears  of  joy  at  seeing  them  once  again  in  a  land  of 
liberty.  He  readily  acknowledged  that  one  can  not  judge 
of  a  country  by  its  books,  and  he  declared  that  he  would 
never  again  leave  London.  He  kept  his  promise:  he  lived 
to  reach  the  age  of  103.  His  memory  and  intellectual 


THE   OLD   CEVENOL  101 

faculties  were  ciear  to  the  last.  He  often  spoke  of  the 
long  list  of  royal  decrees  that  had  been  the  cause  of  so 
much  suffering  to  him  and  to  others.  They  say,  however, 
that  his  last  thought  was  for  France,  and  that  he  died  re- 
peating the  names  of  Henri  IV.  and  Louis  XVI. 

THE  END. 


A     000110157     5 


